


Order Up!

by StarlightTiki



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, M/M, Slow Burn, friendships, iron chef magvel edition, just a bunch of fun with this kooky cast, not really but kinda, restaurant AU, rivalries between businesses, sibling/family bonding, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-22
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2019-08-27 13:17:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 122,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16703347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightTiki/pseuds/StarlightTiki
Summary: Of elegant meals, rivalries, and budding romance.Innes really can't catch a break, can he?





	1. Cookin' up a Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> What's this? A restaurant AU?  
> Yes. Yes it is.  
> 

Innes doesn’t know what exactly he’s expecting when he steps into Rausten’s for work that day.

Although, if he’s being honest, he’s _never_ expected anything good or reasonable and _always_ expected the ridiculous. When dealing with a boss as eccentric as L’Arachel, _that was just how things were._ There was no point in questioning it because _if he did_ , all he’d receive were the manic ramblings of a woman supposedly blessed by the goddess herself to lead a four and a half star restaurant into the light of stardom, and the irritated expressions of his fellow coworkers, piercing into his very soul as if to say ‘ _why would you subject yourself to this, you madman’._

Heaven forbid he arrive at his workplace to experience any semblance of normality on a rather chilly Wednesday morning.

No, not here. Not _ever._

So when he walks in from the back after a rather peaceful bus ride over, he doesn’t so much as flinch when he finds the other cooks huddled by the double doors that lead to the dining area. If he doesn’t ask, he won’t have to deal with it and by extension, be relieved of any sort of responsibility when it came to something inevitably going wrong.

“She’s roller-skating around with a thurible,” The head chef of the establishment, Gerik, feels the need to inform him as he puts his coat and bag away. “Something about purifying and warding off bad omens.”

“A normal practice.” Innes questions how L’Arachel even has the gall to engage in such actions and potentially offend her peers, but decides that anyone who _has the gall to work here_ probably couldn’t care less about such matters.

“You know how the princess gets. Oh, sorry,” Gerik pretends to clear his throat after his apparent fumble. “I mean, _the hero of legend.”_

“One we need but most certainly don’t deserve.”

“Heh. I mean, I guess she’s earned that title. Who would have thought she could save this place from going to hell singlehandedly.”

Innes agreed with Gerik on that point.

Rausten was not in a favorable position a few years back. After being one of the most esteemed and highly rated eateries in the country, the decline had come as a complete shock to all. The blame supposedly fell to executives making erroneous financial decisions, mainstay chefs quitting and a litany of complaints and internal fighting after the original founder, L’Arachel’s uncle Mansel, retired and handed over ownership to someone he’d wrongly assumed could manage the place efficiently. Deemed a sinking ship, the doors of Rausten would soon have closed had L’Arachel not pleaded to be given the keys to her peeling walls and outdated aesthetic.

Within months, not only had she gotten most of the finances back in order, but had completely breathed new life into the restaurant, replacing nearly all of the cooking equipment with only the latest models, overhauling the dining area to something fresh and contemporary yet still rustically charming, and hired a new team (one Innes was fortunate to be part of) of who she had deemed ‘ _the chosen ones_ ’ to refine the menu whilst still keeping Mansel’s original award-winning recipes alive, albeit with special twists.

If pressed on the matter, Innes would readily agree that if not for her hard work, passion, and dedication, Rausten would no longer exist. While he couldn’t bring himself to say so aloud, Innes was immensely indebted to and grateful for all L’Arachel had done for him.

Their history stretched all the way from high school, where he’d engaged in a strange sort of companionship based on the mutual rejection of their peers. One for being conceited, the other for being just plain _weird._ It had been the beginning of what Innes assumed would be a lifetime of putting up with one another. After graduating, they both attended culinary school, L’Arachel going the extra mile and also majoring in business management. Soon after, she’d invited him aboard Rausten. They’d been working alongside one another ever since.

L’Arachel was a good friend, her strange habits aside, and Innes would do all he could to pay back everything she’d done for him. Not just out of duty, but out of the mutual kindness that developed between two people with an unbreakable bond (not that he would admit it).

She was still a pain, though. Especially when she was convinced that she was right and everyone else was wrong. _Nobody_ could tell her otherwise.

“All right!” L’Arachel’s voice echoes from the other side of the door. She barges into the kitchens shortly after, startling everyone. “I think I’ve successfully warded them away. I would do the kitchens too but we all know incense and food don’t mix. Shout out to Joshua for pointing that out.”

“No problem,” Joshua responds in the middle of tying his hair up. “Just doing my job.”

L’Arachel winks at him.

“My boy. Glad we can count on you,” She clears her throat, placing her hands on her hips. “I take it you all know what this is about? One doesn’t purify the premises without good reason after all.” She allows no room for questions, continuing on. “It has come to my attention that perhaps we have reached the point where we are _too_ famous. Hyper-famous. Super famous. _Infinitely-famous._ ”

“What do you mean by that?” One of their server’s Marisa asks. “Isn’t being famous…y’know…good?”

“Not when it invites competition,” L’Arachel states grimly. “For those of you who haven’t been paying attention, the place across the street finally finished renovating. Much to our own disappointment, they are not an aquarium—“

“—Aww…” Marisa sighs in disappointment, put out by the revelation. “That sucks.”

“—Nor are they an accounting firm—“

“—Online filing it is for me then.” Gerik shakes his head.

“—And they most certainly aren’t an illicit betting ring disguised as a bookstore so don’t even ask, Joshua.”

“The fact that you think I would ask that is deeply hurtful and you should be ashamed of yourself,” Joshua pretends to wipe tears from his eyes. “You’re as rude as ever, boss.”

“What are they then?” Innes asks. He assumed it would be another hipster-esque store to match the others dotting the area. They’d been fairly popular as of late, their clientele often dropping by to eat at Rausten’s after a long day of shopping.

“I’m glad you asked,” Taking a moment to pause dramatically, L’Arachel breathes in deeply. “It’s… _another restaurant._ ”

There is a beat of silence.

“…Oh no,” Joshua is the first to break it, gasping. “Not another place to eat. We’ll _starve_ at this rate.”

“I don’t care about _your_ stomach. I care about _our customers_ and _theirs_ ,” L’Arachel clicks her tongue. “We can’t let our guard down.”

“As long as we keep on doing what we do best, there shouldn’t be a problem,” Gerik says, raising an eyebrow. “What’s got you so concerned?”

“While I’d like to believe that’s true, competition is still competition. We’ve managed to monopolize a large chunk of the market considering we’re the only major restaurant on this commercial strip. With those guys here now, people have got a choice between us—” She gestures to their group. “And _them_. We’ll need to up the ante.”

“You don’t think it’s a little premature to start panicking? Are they even open yet?” Gerik crosses his arms against his chest. “I’m all for strategy but getting ahead of ourselves won’t do us any good.”

“There’s no harm in being too prepared,” L’Arachel shoots back. “I’m not saying we’ll be scrapping everything and starting over or something. To start, I just want all of you to think of some new ideas. Menu items, decor, promotional deals, _anything._ We’ve got to keep evolving or we’ll be left in the dust. There’s no deadline but I’d rather sooner than later. Are we all clear? No questions?” When there is no response, she claps her hands. “All right then! Let’s start prepping for the day.”

With that, everyone disperses, each person intent on handling the morning preparations for their respective stations. Innes is about to do the same but is held back by L’Arachel clasping a hand on his shoulder. She motions for him to follow her.

Their destination turns out to be her office. It’s a great bit messier than it usually is, paperwork scattered all over the mahogany desk, files pulled out of their respective cabinets littering the floor, and notices with reminders scrawled messily onto post it notes pinned all over her message board. It strikes him as odd considering L’Arachel’s usual primness when it came to her working quarters.

Innes wonders if something has gone terribly wrong and she’s about to break the news to him in her usual insensitive way.

“Don’t give me that look,” L’Arachel quickly guesses what he’s thinking, rolling her eyes. “There’s no fire so don’t think I’ve screwed up or something silly like that.”

“With this mess, you’re giving the wrong impression,” Innes responds dryly. “What is it?”

“Nothing serious so don’t get your panties in a bunch.”

“I can bunch up my panties in anyway I so choose.”

“Then bunch em’ up in a ‘ _I love you so much L’Arachel you wonderful genius you_ ’ type of way.”

“Don’t ask for the impossible.”

She sticks her tongue out at him in retaliation.

“Really, it’s nothing serious. We’ve been spared the goddess’s wrath another day. I just wanted to let you know that I’m thinking of heading over and introducing ourselves formally. Not today but after we’ve assessed their threat level. As per usual, I expect you to come with me.”

“I don’t mind. However, please don’t create an antagonistic atmosphere,” Innes groans. There were a number of things that could go wrong with L’Arachel all but declaring war on their new neighbors. “It can backfire and make us look horrible.”

“I’m not gonna sabotage them! Word’s been going around that they’re no pushovers. Seems like they’ve assembled a good crew. Scouting them out is only common sense. All we’re going to do is visit, have a friendly, cordial chat, and establish our dominance. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“With you, _everything_ is _always_ something more _._ ”

“Ha!” L’Arachel laughs happily, holding out her fist to him. “As it should be! If they can’t take the heat, they don’t deserve to be in the kitchen now do they?”

“Naturally.” Innes smirks, bumping his own fist against hers. L’Arachel had a way of pulling others into the excitement with her overconfidence. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling more motivated than usual.

He loved a good competition. If L’Arachel’s concerns were anything to go by, their rivals would be worthy of such a fight. As long as nothing got out of hand, he’d be willing to humor her.

“It’s nice when you’re obedient,” L’Arachel grins, flopping down onto her office chair. “Now get in there and show me some spirit!”

“Before that, may I ask why your office is in this sad state?” Innes gestures around the messy room. “You despise clutter.”

“I said it earlier didn’t I? I’m chasing out bad omens. A cabinet is a place you least expect them to be, isn’t it?” L’Arachel punctuates this point by waving her thurible about.

“And the skates? I take it you still refuse to get rid of them?”

“Don’t come at me about my skates, you unenlightened clod. Invest in a pair yourself.”

“No, thank you.”

“Then get to work.” She shoos him off with a wave off her hand. Innes sighs, exiting before he can once again question _why on Earth_ he works for someone so peculiar.

Oh yeah, that sentimental unbreakable bond nonsense.

 

* * *

 

The clatter of his keys is a bit too loud for this hour of the night.

Innes winces as he steps inside his condominium unit, shutting the door and locking it as quietly as he can. The day had gone about as well as he could have expected it to, the busyness of the evening crowds exhausting him as they always tended to. Cooking was like breathing to him at this point in his life, but it did not mean he never felt the strain of being on his feet for hours on end, fulfilling orders and making sure they were up to standard.

He’s rightfully tired, his bed practically calling for him to rest after a hard day’s work.

Passing through the living area, Innes deposits his keys into their respective misshapen bowl, covered in glitter and stickers bright enough to sear through his eyes.

It was a gift, incredibly special to him. Not using it would be a slight on its creator and Innes wasn’t one to disrespect an artist with talent.

He stops by the kitchen, huffing out a breath at what he finds. Two figures are slumped over the table, heads resting on their arms. Despite telling them countless times to go to bed when it got this late, both had adamantly refused, opting to wait for him while putting aside their own fatigue out of concern for their brother.

Innes gently prods the shoulder of the older girl, her eyes fluttering open after a few attempts to wake her.

“Innes?” She mumbles, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she sits up. “…S’late?”

“Very. Go to sleep, Tana. I’ll take care of her.”

Tana nods, pushing away from the table. She offers him an affectionate head-butt to his chest on her way out.

“Cooked somethin’ for ya,” She yawns. “Eat it if you like.”

“I appreciate it.”

Tana nods, smiling tiredly before heading off to her room. She had classes early in the morning if Innes recalled correctly. Hopefully she could manage to get in enough sleep so as to not nod off during her lectures.

He turns his attention the smaller form still snoozing away.

With a grunt, he gathers her in his arms without a problem. She awakens only when he’s halfway through tucking her in, fringe obscuring her vision.

“Big brother?” She asks quietly, her voice hoarse.

“Yes, it’s me,” Innes responds, bringing the blanket up to her chin. “Go to sleep.”

“…wanted to…eat with you…”

“Tomorrow we’ll have breakfast together.”

She nods, snuggling into her comforter.

“…’kay…G’night, Innes…”

“Good night, Tiki.” He offers the lightest of ruffles to her hair before leaving, shutting his youngest sister’s door softly.

Innes returns kitchen to make sure all of the appliances are shut off. He trusted Tana not to burn the house down in his absence but it never hurt to double check.

In the midst of ensuring all of the stove notches are in their correct placement and that there are no dishes to be washed, he notices a rather innocent looking plate wrapped in tin foil. A pink, heart-shaped post it note sits at the top.

Eyes narrowing with curiosity, he carefully pulls it off. It reads:

 

_for the bestest big brother ever!!_

_we tried really hard_

_but it still Looks like a SPace rOck :( sorry_

_-From Tiki_

_anD_

_Tana! <3_

 

Innes cannot contain the smile that spreads across his face at the messy penmanship written in a variety of different colored crayons. His sisters were truly hopeless when it came to the kitchen. Not that he expected them to excel at it or anything.

While it would be a relief for them to be able to fend for themselves, as cooking was a valuable life skill, he figured there was nothing wrong with providing them with edible meals for the meantime.

Unwrapping the dish, he can confirm that it does in fact resemble an extraterrestrial mineral. Completely charred and blackened, Innes has no idea what he is looking at.

He considers throwing it out, doubtful that he could ingest the unknown contents, but another look at the note stops him.

Imagining Tana cutting vegetables into uneven pieces, Tiki standing on her stepping stool to reach the dishes, both panicking when sparks of oil nearly blemish their skin was just…

Innes picks the plate up, scavenging around the kitchen cabinets for utensils and settles down at the now unoccupied table.

His hesitation is warranted he tells himself. How they messed up this badly is beyond him.

It’s probably going to make him sick.

He can’t afford to get food poisoning when he has work tomorrow.

_He shouldn’t eat this._

 

 

His knife and fork cut through his dinner.

Innes makes not a face as he finishes it all, clearing his plate entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait what? Tiki is Innes's little sister???
> 
> Heck yeah she is! She's my baby girl so what better way to involve her than making her Innes's sweet and adorable lil' sis? We'll get into the background story for this later but for now, the mystery remains.  
> Yeah, her and Myrrh are gonna interact. You'll see.
> 
> Also, I've been wanting to write Innes and L'Arachel as best friends since forever! Pretty sure fifty percent of the fun I had writing this was their interactions. It's gonna be so much fun to write them and Joshua and Gerik and Tethys and Marisa interacting I CAN'T WAIT EEE  
> Ahem. If you can't tell, they're my favs from Sacred Stones and I just want them to be best friends okay
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Of Stings and Fated Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> L'Arachel decides to issue a challenge and Innes is swept along by her whims as always.  
> Also, Renais arrives at the scene.

L’Arachel’s judgment ends up being right on the money, as it typically tends to be.

Renais ( _Innes cannot count how many times L’Arachel has complained about how ‘suspicious’ it is that they share the same first letter as Rausten_ ) becomes the talk of the town the first few weeks after their grand opening. Visitors from all over flock to have a taste of their cuisine. While Rausten inadvertently benefits from this surge in business, it also comes with less than pleasing side-effects, because soon they find many of their regulars frequenting not only them but _Renais as well_.

Despite this potentially detrimental occurrence, there is nary a mean-spirited comment nor threat nor bratty petulance from Innes’s boss. She remains relatively mum on the subject, putting aside the occasional snarky quip.

Innes dares not bring it up, fearing that if he did it’d be the equivalent of knocking over a hornet’s nest and afterwards lamenting doing so despite _knowing_ he _shouldn’t have_.

Nobody at work acknowledges what’s happening and that’s fine by him.

“What’s wrong, big brother? You’ve got a ‘v’ on your forehead again,” Tiki asks one sunny morning, guiding his attention away from the article he was reading. She takes a bite from her French toast, about to speak again, but one pointed look from Innes and she’s chewing and swallowing before opening her mouth. “Tana says that’s what happens when the grump monster visits. Did he visit you today?”

“Certainly not,” Innes replies, scrolling down the ‘food and lifestyle’ section of his preferred news site. Reading through the write-up about Renais was insightful. There were vivid descriptions of their signature dishes and the professional service of the waiters and waitresses, earning them high marks from critics. “I’m simply reading through something for work.”

“I thought you didn’t have to go today?”

Innes sighs.

“L’Arachel wants me to drop by to discuss something.” Why she couldn’t just tell him over the phone or meet him later in the afternoon at a more reasonable hour _on his day off_ was unclear. Then again, _this was_ _L’Arachel_ , and that tended to be the only valid explanation.

“Oh, okay,” His little sister nods, smiling happily as she swallows another bite of her breakfast. “Did you know we’re getting a new student today? Ms. Ninian said so yesterday.”

“Are you excited?”

“Yeah!” Tiki exclaims, her eyes practically sparkling. “I hope we can be friends! If they’re shy I’ll make sure to be super nice to them so they don’t feel left out.”

“And if they’re nasty?”

“Don’t say that, Innes!” Tana joins them in the kitchen, having finally finished applying her makeup. “I’m sure they’ll be a lovely person. You make sure to do your best and be a good classmate, sweetie.”

“Scouts honor!” Tiki salutes, gulping down her glass of milk. “Thank you for the breakfast, Nessy. It was really yummy.”

Innes cringes at the nickname directed at him, unable to say anything against it. The last time he tried ended in Tiki’s eyes flooding with tears and one of the most excruciating feelings of guilt he’d ever felt in his entire life. It was incredibly embarrassing but he wasn’t about to have a bawling Tiki and angry Tana on his case about being an ‘ _insensitive and heartless beast_ ’ again.

“You’re welcome. Now go make sure all of your things are packed before we leave.”

Tiki jumps up from her seat to do just that, making sure to place her dishes into the sink prior to running off.

“Will you be staying late today?” Innes directs his attention to Tana. “You mentioned cramming yesterday.”

”No, I’ll get it done by this afternoon. I can pick Tiki up so don’t worry about it.”

“All right.” He appreciated Tana’s help when it came to their younger sister. While Innes’s hours weren’t exactly flexible, he did usually try to line up his breaks with Tiki’s pick up and dismissal times. Still, it always helped having someone else to pitch in when he couldn’t make it for whatever reason.

“Y’know…”

“Yes?”

“Well…never mind,” Tana shakes her head, deciding against whatever it was she was going to say. “It’s nothing.”

“Spit it out, Tana. It won’t do you any good to hide something from me if you’re just going to blurt it out later.”

“You’re so mean! Have some tact!” She pouts. “What if I was going to say something that was really sensitive?”

“Maybe don’t tell me then. You’d save us both the trouble.”

Tana huffs, mumbling under her breath about him being a jerk.

“…I was thinking of getting a job.”

“A job? Are you in need of money?”

“No!” She quickly denies, rapidly waving her hands about. “I was just thinking that it’d be nice to pay for my own stuff, that’s all. You and Dad are the ones handling my tuition and all and I…well…I’d rather pitch in and help.”

“And to remedy that, you think working would be the solution.”

Tana nods.

“I see,” Innes sets his tablet down. “I don’t have a problem with it. However, are you sure you’ll be able to balance that with your classes?”

“I’m sure I can! I mean, I think it’ll make it a little difficult to manage around Tiki but we can figure it out,” Tana responds, pleased that her brother was taking the idea well. “It can be a part-time thing. Just to help you out. If it gets to be too much, _which_ _it won’t_ , I’ll stop.”

“…Very well. Go ahead. As long as your grades don’t suffer.”

“Great!” Tana smiles. “If you’ve got the time, can you look over my resume? Tell me if it needs some work?”

“It’s almost as if you were going to do as you like even without my input.”

“Really?” She hums. “You’re probably right.”

“I’m back!” Tiki appears once again, holding her backpack.

“Do you have everything you need?”

“Yup. Only need my lunchbox and we’re good to go! Whaddya pack? Somethin’ delicious?” She asks when he passes it over to her. “Aw, what am I saying? Nessy’s the greatest cook in the whole wide world! Everything he makes is delicious!”

“Here’s yours, Tana.”

“Yay!” She happily takes it. “By the way, did you eat what we left you the other day?”

“Could that really be considered eating?”

“Not nice! We tried our best!”

“I bet it was the most delicious space rock looking pasta you’ve ever had!” Tiki chirps. “We didn’t get to try it. We just ordered pizza.”

“I’m happy to be used as your sacrificial lamb,” Innes sighs, grabbing his keys. “Let’s get going then.”

“Aye, aye, Nessy!” Both sisters exclaim, ready for whatever the day would bring.

 

* * *

 

“We meet again, vice commander Innes.”

“Can you just get on with it?” He represses the urge to run a hand over his face. _This was his day off dammit._ The least she could do was have this conversation with him when he was getting paid. “What are you scheming?” Innes questions, shifting in the squeaky and uncomfortable office chair his boss refused to get rid of. Something about vintage charm, she insisted.

“Scheming? _Me_?” L’Arachel laughs heartily. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You’ve given away none of your usual animosity—“

“ _Animosity_?” She gasps, genuinely offended. “What are you implying? That I behave similarly to a blood thirsty heathen over—what? The state of affairs of my business?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“You oaf. Belligerent cur. I am a woman of the church. Saying such awful things about me is only inviting the wrath of the goddess.”

“Are we stopping by today?”

“Wonderful guess. We are! The plan is to ambush them after work,” L’Arachel excitedly yanks open the drawer of her desk and pulls out a rather vibrant notebook. “You see, the reason I’ve been so quiet was so as to not give away these wonderful, thinly veiled, passive aggressive comments and comebacks! I took a ‘page’ out of your ‘book’—” She gestures to her notebook, tittering at her own pun. “—and have done some research on how to be scathing without the other person noticing. It isn’t my style to be anything but straightforward, but the circumstances call for it. I checked in with Joshua and he green lit all of them.”

“Did it ever occur to you that Joshua would be more than willing to see you embarrass yourself when those _don’t_ work?”

“He’d never do such a thing. He isn’t _you,_ after all.”

“You wound me.”

“That was the intention.”

“Why isn’t he here, anyway?” Innes asks, genuinely curious. Joshua tended to be around on the days they were closed to help with ensuring their accounts were all straightened out and correct. The man had a knack for numbers, even if his infatuation with gambling was a little absurd.

“He said something about a trip to a casino.”

“Doesn’t he ever worry about losing all of his money?”

“I doubt it. He’s a conniving and talented hustler.”

Innes nods, assuming he shouldn’t be all that concerned.Joshua would probably come into work tomorrow, whistling a happy tune and with all his internal organs still intact.

_Hopefully._

“Back to the topic at hand, what exactly do these insults have to do with the occasion?”

“They’ve been featured in magazines, Innes!” L’Arachel cries out in despair, startling him. “As in, plural. As in, _way more_ than we have! And it’s only been a month!” She laments, slamming her head onto her desk. Innes winces at the sound, sure he’ll have to hear even more complaints about the no doubt painful bump forming on her forehead. “I didn’t even know there were that many magazines about food!”

“How many were there?”

“Enough to hurt my pride as executive chef,” She sniffles. “What’s so great about their _Mille-Feuille_? Tell me what, Innes. _Please_.”

“I cannot say. I haven’t tried it.”

It’s then that Innes realizes he should have kept his mouth shut, because rather than continuing to weep, L’Arachel freezes. He can practically see the accursed lightbulb appear above her head.

After a tense few moments of silence, she sits up, wiping the fake tears from her eyes. A devilish grin slowly spreads across her face, contrasting with the usual saintly persona she oft put on.

Innes has made a _terrible_ mistake.

“Innes—“

“ _No_.”

“You have no say in the matter.”

“Whatever it is you’re planning, I want no part of it.”

“Do I need to repeat myself? I said _you have no choice_.”

“Why do I feel like whatever it is you want to do will only end in embarrassment for the both of us?”

“Because you’re a pessimist. Start seeing the glass half-full. Also, if anyone is going to be embarrassed, it’s you. I never regret anything I do.”

L’Arachel doesn’t relent as she explains her plan to him, uncaring of all his criticisms as she strikes out the very flimsy details. Innes considers leaving and dealing with her wrath another day, but after weighing the costs and benefits of walking out on his friend, decides he rather enjoys his job and stable income.

He’d go along with her, going against his misgivings.

_This was going to be a long day._

 

* * *

 

“That wig looks ridiculous.”

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” L’Arachel adjusts the hairpiece, an obnoxious neon purple, and loops their arms together. “Now be quiet and play the part of my date. I had to pull a lot of strings to get this reservation today.” Innes questioned how she managed such a feat in the few hours after their strategy session. He’d always known she had a variety of unique connections but this was ridiculous. Renais was supposedly booked for _months_.

After their serious chat about what they would be doing, and a trip to the local party store and one to L’Arachel’s favorite boutique later, (he was starting to think this was all an excuse to drag him around to be her shopping mule) L’Arachel decided she’d acquired all she needed to perfectly disguise herself for their sting.

She called it a sting but Innes thought ‘ _completely unnecessary idiocy_ ’ fit the bill much better.

“What exactly do you expect to gain from this?” Innes asks, trying to get a peek into the restaurant from beyond the line. “I hope this isn’t an attempt to steal their— _Ow_!” Innes cries out, biting his lip as L’Arachel grinds her shoe into his foot. They gather the stares of those around them but Innes is too preoccupied with the pain of having a heel pierce his foot to care.

“Shut your sinful mouth. As if I’d ever sink that low,” She hisses. “I want to know what all the fuss is about. We’ll eat, observe, come to a conclusion, and leave. Nothing more, nothing less.“

“Don’t jinx this operation.”

“Just act like my partner. Don’t worry, I won’t accidentally fall for you. I only ask you do the same.”

“Disgusting,” Innes grimaces. “How nauseating.”

“As if a fine lady like myself would ever have eyes for a pompous prude like you.”

“Likewise.”

“I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

“I’m glad I have a hole in my foot. Who told you to wear stilettos?”

“My horoscope.”

“Makes sense.”

Soon enough they are seated by a rather dispassionate woman who introduces herself as Lute. After insisting that ice water was enough and no wine would be necessary (L’Arachel didn’t drink and Innes had a child to care for), they’re given two menus and left to their devices.

“ _Where is it, where is it…_ ” L’Arachel mumbles, scanning through the pages. “… _Aha_!” She points to her find. “The _Mille-Feuille. This. Yes._ You’ll have the same, won’t you?”

“You don’t expect us to _only have desert_ after somehow scoring this reservation?” He doubted they’d be able to get another anytime soon. All the more reason to enjoy this convoluted outing.

“Of course not!” She replies. “We’ll have a standard full-course meal. You’ll be ordering a different combination from mine to cover more bases. I also expect you to share with me, as I will do with you.”

“Do I have a choice in dessert?”

“You do, but that choice is relegated to the _Mille-Feuille.”_

 _“_ Can you stop emphasizing it with that weird accent? It’s offensive,” Innes rolls his eyes. The _Mille-Feuille (_ gods now _he_ was doing it _) did_ sound delicious. He couldn’t admit that now, though. His boss would assume he was going along with her willfully and that wouldn’t do at all. “…I suppose I’ll have the same, just to humor you.”

“Your cooperation is most appreciated.” L’Arachel grins at him, content with his answer.

Their server returns soon enough and they go ahead with their plan of attack.

“Pardon me, if I may ask,” L’Arachel says to Lute before she can leave their table. “You have such a lovely smile. As someone in the service industry, can you tell me what gives you the motivation to display such a positive demeanor?”

“My pay check,” Lute responds bluntly. “Also, it’s cool seeing how different people act depending on how you treat them. Also also, being friendly leads to better tips statistically.”

“You’re a smart cookie. Look forward to a good one for your honesty.” L’Arachel promises, earning herself a delighted expression.

“Don’t you think asking such probing questions will get you found out sooner?” Innes asks once Lute is gone. “She might mention it to the other staff members.”

“Innes,” L’Arachel has the gall to give him a pitying look. “ _Clearly_ , I have thought this through all the way. I have a disguise on for a reason. You’re the one who should be concerned.”

While it was true that Innes hadn’t bothered with the dramatics, not having changed from his teal jumper and plain slacks, L’Arachel more than made up for his plainness, sporting her wig, feather boa, and a relatively tame polo dress. Entirely unnecessary and only serving to make her stand out even more.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“Their servers seem to be well-trained,” L’Arachel ignores his comment, tapping her cheek as she observes the bustle of the restaurant, workers walking to and fro to ensure the customer experience is nothing but positive. “Ours was a bit too blunt, so that probably doesn’t go over well with people who cannot appreciate her attitude.”

“Reminds me of Marisa, in a weird way,” Innes says. “Not as spacey but equally as brutally honest.”

“Still…Marisa should work on smiling more. I know it’s hard for her and I don’t exactly like forcing her to be something she’s not, but I’m sure it’d benefit all of us in the long run,” L’Arachel sighs, genuinely stumped. “If only she had Dozla’s enthusiasm. It’s not even his job but he still goes out there and waits tables with such a vigor! But asking her to copy that is simply…”

“A high hurdle to pass,” Innes agrees. He doubted anyone could match their restaurant’s beloved Dozla’s charisma. He could relate to Marisa a great deal on that point. While he couldn’t understand her need for constant cat naps (she reminded him of Tiki in that aspect), he could certainly see why it was so tiring for her to constantly have to put up a happy face even when faced with less desirable than attitudes. At least Innes was in the kitchen where he could snarl and scowl without anyone except the staff being any the wiser. “Perhaps maintaining a neutral expression is enough.”

“There you go spoiling her again,” L’Arachel pouts. “If you never let her, how will she ever learn to fly?”

“We won’t get anywhere asking her to go full-throttle right off the bat.”

“Foolish Innes, spoiling our children.”

“If anyone’s going to be a parent, wouldn’t Gerik be the more obvious choice?” The man was so unnecessarily protective of all of them. As head chef, he held a great amount of responsibility over the entire staff and how the kitchen functioned. It was always surprising to think such a gruff looking hulk of a man would be the one to bandage their cuts and tell them to get a good night’s rest. Not that Innes had a problem with it. He looked up to Gerik a great deal. “The same goes for you. I cannot picture you as the maternal type.”

“For good reason. I’m not interested in child-rearing at all,” L’Arachel replies, frowning. “You can be the mother. You’re always nagging all of us.”

“Don’t make me sick with your generalizations. If I were a mother, my children would be better raised than you lot.”

“I’m glad you’re not my mother.”

“Please shut up.”

The night passes relatively smoothly. They do as they have planned and have a relaxing time savoring their meal, sharing with one another whilst taking note on the different flavors and combinations of cooking technique they come across.

Innes may have had his reservations about L’Arachel’s plans, but she doesn’t do anything out of the ordinary, save for asking for his input on the molecular structure of the various sauces they’re presented with.

“Why would I know that?”

“It’s simple chemistry, Innes. Honestly, I don’t know how you _wouldn’t_ know that.”

“I don’t like chemistry,” Innes mumbles petulantly. “It’s too difficult.”

“That brings back such nostalgic memories!” L’Arachel laughs. “It feels like it was yesterday you would come over and we’d stay up far too late studying. Uncle would find us drooling and snoring, strewn over the carpet the very next morning. Oh, how he scolded us for potentially ruining our backs.”

“He’s the sole reason my posture is as excellent as it is.”

“Mine as well. Also, yoga,” L’Arachel sends him a pointed look. “Make sure you don’t miss it this week like the last.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Finally, the much awaited Mille-Feuille arrives.

“Could you wait here a moment?” L’Arachel asks of Lute, placing a napkin onto her lap. She gracefully picks up a fork and knife. “Only a moment will be fine.”

“O…kay?” Lute blinks, glancing over to an equally as confused Innes.

“You have my thanks,” L’Arachel cuts through her meal, carefully bringing the bite up and into her mouth. She chews thoughtfully.

It’s rather awkward. Lute is as uncomfortable as Innes is as they wait for L’Arachel to get on with whatever it is she plans to do.

“Are you—“ He attempts to get an answer but L’Arachel only holds a finger up to silence him. She finishes chewing, dabbing at her mouth before speaking.

“…May I see your manager?” L’Arachel asks, giving nothing away.

“…Huh? Oh, I mean…yes, of course…” Lute nods, leaving to bring the aforementioned person over.

“Was it that bad?” Innes questions, eyeing his own Mille-Feuille _._

“Take a bite of yours.”

“What?”

“Take a bite,” L’Arachel’s gaze is ice cold. It pierces into the very depths of his soul. “Give your own judgement.”

Innes frowns.

“All right.”

 

* * *

 

“Ms. Eirika, a customer wants to speak with you.”

“Oh no. Was there an issue?” Eirika’s eyebrows furrow. There’d been nary a problem since they first opened but there was always a first time for everything. They needed to deal with this appropriately. “Did they find their meal dissatisfying?”

“I guess? I mean, I hope not. The lady promised me a good tip…” Lute scratches her cheek. “She said to stay and made me watch her take the first bite.”

“How strange.”

“Yeah, it was weird.”

“What’s wrong?” Ephraim chimes in, poking his head out of the kitchen. “There a problem?”

“The table that ordered the Mille-Feuille wants to speak with me,” Eirika sighs, dismissing Lute. “I’ll head over now.”

“I’ll go with you.” Ephraim steps out into the hallway.

“I can handle it.”

“I prepared them. Might as well see what I did wrong.”

“Shouldn’t you be working?” Eirika raises an eyebrow, not impressed by her brother leaving the kitchen when there were still orders to fulfill.

“This is part of work. If someone wants to roast my cooking, I’d rather it be to my face.”

“And if they’re calling to compliment it?”

“Well, it’s always nice to be praised, isn’t it?” Ephraim grins. “You’ll have to deal with my boosted ego but I doubt I’ll be _that_ annoying about it.”

Eirika sighs.

 

* * *

 

 _“_ This is…” Innes holds a hand to his mouth. “It’s…”

 _“_ I know, right? _”_

“L’Arachel _I—“_

“It’s stupendous isn’t it?”

_“How?”_

_“What?”_

“Words cannot—“

“Is this real life?“

“Mille-Feuille indeed.”

“This is, as the young kids say, _lit.”_

 _“_ Do they still say that anymore?” Innes asks in the midst of his mystification. “I don’t think Tana says that anymore.”

“Well _I_ have said it because _I_ have deemed it appropriate _and—_ “

“Um, pardon me?”

Innes and L’Arachel pause in excitement at the voice, coming to the realization that they are both practically yelling in the middle of the dining area of a restaurant they have no business being in.

A young woman stands before them, dressed in a smart black pantsuit. She turns to the other patrons, waving off their concern.

“…And who might you be?” L’Arachel answers for them, clearing her throat. She folds her hands politely on her lap. “The manager perhaps?”

“Executive chef. But managerial duties fall under that description,” She smiles kindly. “Is there a problem?”

They swap looks. Innes shifts in his seat. To think he would lose control of himself that easily. And over a _Mille-Feuille_ of all things.

“Yes, I believe there is.” L’Arachel confidently replies.

“Not to your liking?” A man appears from behind the woman, donning a black chef’s uniform with accents of gold. Not the typical white but Innes wasn’t one for tradition in the first place. “It’s a shame but feel free to critique.”

“You prepared this?” Innes feels the need to ask for some reason. Clearly he had if he was this concerned about it.

The man nods.

“You are the culprit,” L’Arachel narrows her eyes. “You are the one.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“This _Mille-Feuille_ is without fault _.”_ Innes uncharacteristically blurts out without thinking.

What was he _doing_? What was he _saying_?

“Why are you pronouncing it like that?” The man asks, titling his head curiously. “I mean, I butcher words all the time but that doesn’t sound right either.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I said nothing, _any kind of way,_ ” Innes backtracks, embarrassed with himself. This wasn’t like him at all. The Mille-Feuille had truly shook him to the core. “Do not speak of what I did not say.”

The chef raises an eyebrow, amused.

“Ah, I see,” He nods. “My mistake. Without fault, you said?”

“Perhaps that’s too generous. The layers were a bit too crisp and the strawberries weren’t sufficiently firm. The custard was smooth—Although a bit too heavy for my tastes.”

“Got it. I kinda got that impression too. A bit lighter?”

“Preferably.”

“On a scale of one to five?”

“Four point one.”

“That’s pretty good.”

“A true master of the culinary arts is never content with ‘ _pretty good_ ’.”

“I’ve still got a lot to learn then,” The man grins, not the least put out by Innes’s criticism. “Thanks for the feedback.”

“Was there any other problem I could address?” The executive chef cuts into their back in forth with a dry tone.

“Ha _ha_!” L’Arachel all but cackles. “We were right to come here today. Renais has proven itself to be a formidable opponent! You have a wonderful establishment here!”

“Oh. Thank you,” The other woman bows politely. “That means a great deal to us.”

“ _However,_ ” L’Arachel slams a fist down onto the table, nearly knocking over her glass of water. It reminds Innes that there are still two perfectly consumable Mille-Feuille sitting there, waiting to be eaten. “This does not mean you should let your guard down. There are many wild foxes roaming about. One false move and they’ll snatch up your position and your earnings.”

“…”

“In any case, my curiosity has been peaked. If you want to stay in this business, you’ll have to fight tooth and nail, Renais! The position of number one is not so easily obtained!” L’Arachel reaches up to rip her wig off, throwing it to the ground. No one is surprised because it was a lousy costume to begin with. Innes almost feels bad for her until he remembers that everyone in the restaurant is back to staring at them like the lunatics they appear to be and _he is so going to rail against his boss later for this shameful act they’ve put on. “_ This is war and I don’t plan to lose to you! I swear it, by the holy name L’Arachel of the Rausten family! And by the name of her less impressive but equally as passionate subordinate, In—“

 _“Boss,”_ Innes quickly leans across the table to clamp a hand over her mouth. It was too late to salvage her identity, but he wouldn’t have _his_ put out there for all present to hear. _“Your identity.”_

L’Arachel stares at him for a good second or two, the consequences of her actions dawning on her.

“Oh my goddess! Please forget that. Please forget everything I said about my name being L’Arachel of the Rausten family!”

Innes facepalms.

“Rausten?” The woman’s lips purse. “…Oh! You two are from across the street?”

“Can we take these to go?” Innes pleads, done with this entire failed ‘mission’. All he wanted was to go home, take a nice long bath, forget any of this happened, and hope his Mille-Feuille hadn’t completed fallen apart after the ride home.

They’re followed to the door by the pair after all is said and done, bags of take-out in their respective hands. Innes can barely bring himself to look back at them. He was more than a little mortified by their display at such a well-known eatery. He _worked across the street for heaven’s sake._

“I suppose it matters little now that you know who we are but…” L’Arachel frowns, fists clenching. “Rausten is a wonderful restaurant. I’ve put the entirety of my heart and soul into its upkeep. Because of that I—“ She grits her teeth, staring Renais’s executive chef straight in the eye. “—I won’t tolerate any half-hearted competition! If you can’t handle it, I’ll be sure to crush you without any remorse!”

“…”

“…”

“…I see,” The other women responds after a beat of stunned silence, smiling genuinely as she holds out her hand. “Then I suppose it’s only fair I introduce myself properly to my fated rival,” L’Arachel’s eyes sparkle at her wording. “My name is Eirika, executive chef and owner of the up and coming restaurant Renais. There is still a lot I have to learn, but don’t take us for fools. We don’t intend on letting up in the slightest,” She gestures to the man beside her. “This is my brother Ephraim. He is our sou chef, one of great caliber despite how he comes across.”

Ephraim salutes.

“A pleasure to meet you both.”

“I’m L’Arachel, executive chef as well! Rausten is my pride and joy. And this is Innes. He’s _my_ sou chef! A bit rough around the edges and annoyingly naggy sometimes—“

“— _I’m right here_ —”

“—But his heart is in the right place and his talent is second to none,” L’Arachel finishes their introduction, taking Eirika’s hand. “May the goddess watch over our fierce battle and bless us both with the strength to fight again another day!”

“Yes,” Eirika nods. “I hope she does.”

“Sou chef, huh?” Ephraim steps up to Innes, holding his own hand out. “Guess you can say this was fated as well. Next time, I’ll whip something up so good, you’ll have no choice but to give me a five out of five. With a smile to boot.”

Innes scoffs.

“Let us see about that,” Innes reluctantly takes it, the crackle of competitiveness tense between them both. “I will not lose to an amateur.”

“Ditto.” Ephraim’s grip is firm, calloused, and rough. Innes knows his own are likely in the same state. They’re the hands of a dedicated chef. Perhaps calling him an amateur was a bit of an underestimation.

No matter.

“Until next time,” L’Arachel salutes, suddenly grabbing Innes’s arm. “I look forward to the future!”

“Don’t grab me! I can walk by myself!”

“This is where we make our great escape! You’re so slow so, _yes_ , I think I _do_ need to grab you.”

“We’re escaping _across the street_! They’ll see us anyway!”

“That doesn’t matter!”

She drags him off across the plaza to their headquarters. The two bicker all the way over, until the last peep that can be heard is the back door of Rausten being opened and slammed shut.

“…They’re a strange duo.” Eirika comments idly, amused by the entire situation. “Never would I have thought that I’d be challenged like that.”

“It’s interesting though,” Ephraim responds, cracking his knuckles. “Four point one, huh?”

“Quite the critic.”

“For good reason. He pretty much summed up what I thought before it went out,” With a shrug, he turns to enter Renais once again. “Let’s get back to it.”

“Right.” Eirika nods, taking one last glance at the powered off neon sign reading ‘Rausten’, before following her brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never thought Innes being called Nessy by Tiki would make me as happy as it does. Like, he's so embarrassed by it but nobody can refuse a nickname from Tiki so it remains. Tana doesn't have one because her name is already kinda short so  
> Tiki probably likes embarrassing her big bro on purpose lol
> 
> Also, I picture L'Arachel having a similar style and approach to cooking to that of Nakiri Alice from Food Wars for some reason?? Like she's really inventive and uses science and goes on entire rants about how people don't take advantage of chemical changes and whatnot. A smart, kooky cooking girl.
> 
> And yay! Ephraim and Eirika and that Lute cameo! Can't wait to get this rollin'! Set up always takes a while but when we finally get to heavy character interactions it's a blast!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	3. A Decadent Declaration of a Duel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When there's betrayal in the ranks, L'Arachel is a little annoyed. Innes doesn't care, but finds his priorities being shifted elsewhere.

“I’m home!”

In the time Innes takes to look up at his sister’s entrance, Tiki cheers, taking advantage of the distraction to completely demolish him at the fighting game they were currently playing.

“Cheater.” Innes playfully pitches her ear, sighing as Tiki’s character does a victory pose.

“Should have kept paying attention, Nessy,” His youngest sister smiles triumphantly. “Now we’re tied!”

“Next time _I’ll_ win.”

“That’s funny, because I was gonna say the same thing!”

“I said I’m home…”

“Oh, sorry! Welcome back!” Tiki quickly turns her attention towards Tana. “You look happy. Did it go well? Didja get the job? Did ya bring me back any snacks? Innes said you wouldn’t but I told him to believe in you. _Didja? Didja?”_

“Hold your horses there,” Tana laughs, waving around a plastic bag. “These are for dessert so you don’t get any yet.”

“Aww…”

“But I have good news. They hired me!”

“Yay!”

“Congratulations.”

“Hehe,” Tana grins. “They said I was exactly the kind of person they were looking for. Amicable and polite but assertive and no nonsense. I start on Monday.”

“Tana’s gonna get so much money,” Tiki says, placing her hands on her cheeks. “Imagine how many yummy things you can buy! If I made a lotta money, I’d buy chocolate covered crackers and fruity rolls and strawberry shortcakes and jaw breakers and a new hat and a pair of sunglasses and new red shoes and…I’d buy you a hat too, Nessy. And I’d buy you some of that gray-dent nail polish you like, Tana.”

“Nail polish for g _radient_ nails, sweetie.”

“As much as we appreciate the sentiment, Tana is working to pay for her schooling, Tiki,” Innes patiently explains. “She’s being responsible.”

“Oh.”

“And if I may ask, where exactly is this workplace of yours?” Tana had been suspiciously secretive when he’d ask where she was applying. He still found it incredibly strange how she refused to give him any of the details, even regarding what exactly her job entailed.

“That’s a secret.”

“Should I be concerned?”

“Not at all. I just think you’ll have a nice laugh when you eventually find out.”

“…All right,” Deciding it was pointless to continue prodding, Innes looks back at the television screen. “Choose the stage, child. The final battle begins now.”

“Can I pick the one at the dragon temple? So it's really dramatic and cool?”

“Of course.”

“You two don’t even care!” Tana whines. “At least let me play next!”

“No way! You’ll beat the both of us!” Tiki pouts, selecting the settings with the practiced ease of a professional. “And then we’ll feel bad because all you do is mash buttons.”

“I do not! I use strategy all the time,” Tana crosses her arms against her chest, facing away from her siblings. Managing to keep a steady voice and straight face, she continues. “…Maybe you two should get on _my_ level instead of blaming me for not being _good_.”

“…What did you just say?” Innes responds icily.

“Did Tana just put up the smack down?” Tiki peeks back at her. “I think she’s putting up the smack down, Nessy.”

“What does that mean?”

“She’s challenging us!”

“You’ll eat those words, _little sister_ ,” Innes immediately takes the bait, getting up to retrieve another spare controller. “Tiki, buck up. This is a free-for-all now. No holding back.”

Tiki lets out a guttural battle cry.

“You two are goin’ down!” She yells, holding up her controller with a renewed vigor.

“Oh no,” Tana responds sarcastically, taking a seat between them both. “How will I ever win now?”

"You won't. I will."

"No, I will!"

Tana annihilates Innes and Tiki without remorse.

Innes demands rematches he loses and Tiki falls asleep halfway through the fourth, but it’s a fun time the whole way through.

Tana doesn’t know how she does it, because it _really is_ just her button mashing if she’s being honest.

 

* * *

 

“Hey Nessy?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“You ever wonder what the appeal of outdoor seating is?” Joshua ignores his request, staring across the way at Renais’s bustling, once a week breakfast hours. Customers are enjoying a morning chat outside at tables, not the least bit perturbed by the cool winds brought about by the transition into Autumn. “Isn’t it annoying? Like, there are bugs outside? And if it’s windy your hair gets everywhere? And people are constantly passing by? What kind of enjoyment is there to that?”

“I don’t know, Joshua, why don’t you ask someone who _likes_ outdoor seating?” Innes responds with thinly-veiled irritation, continuing in his task of updating the outdoor menu board. It was his least favorite task due in part to L’Arachel always expecting him to come up with ‘ _cute and stylish_ ’ jokes and drawings, when Innes was precisely the _wrong_ person to ask such a feat of.

That’s probably why she did it, though.

“I mean, people probably just like the ambience of having a meal outside. Why hasn’t L’Arachel invested into that?”

“Because she said the extra costs were not worth customers being unable to appreciate her skills with interior decorating,” Innes responds, clicking his tongue when he messes up the curl of an ’s’. This was so annoying! “Joshua, can’t _you_ do this? You have a better artistic sense than I do.”

“I would, but watching you struggle makes me not want to.”

“I hate you.”

“And I love and appreciate your existence too,” Joshua snickers at his glare. “I don’t think the little miss would appreciate me helping you out.”

“I don’t care what she thinks.”

“How about I just draw something on the bottom and you finish up the words?”

“Please. _Anything_.”

“Working hard or hardly working?” L’Arachel appears from out of nowhere, startling Innes enough to drop the board onto the ground, the clattering making him wince. Joshua snorts at his reaction.

“Is there a third option?” Joshua asks.

“The third option is there is no third option.”

“Sounds rough. I think we’ll just keep on doing what we're doing out here.”

“Yes, that would be for the best,” She glances at the menu board once again in Innes’s grasp. “What does that say? If it’s not witty, you’re disinvited from Frozen Yogurt Fridays.”

“That’s harsh, boss,” Joshua grimaces. “Frozen yogurt just won’t be the same without Nessy arguing about the actual weight of his cup with the cashier.

“Innes knows what’s at stake. He will not disappoint.”

“Ah…well…”

“What is it?” L’Arachel peeks over his shoulder. “…Innes?”

“Yes?”

“All you’ve done is written the date in, admittedly, beautiful cursive.”

“…Yeah.”

“That’s not a cute or quirky quip.”

“No…”

“…You can be weirdly charming when you want to be, huh?”

“It’s called a gap in character isn’t it?” Joshua chimes in, joining her in hovering over Innes’s other shoulder. “How about ‘Looking for _trouble?”_ He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “Stop in for some escargot that looks like _rubble._ ”

“I mean it rhymes but…what exactly about that sounds appetizing?” L’Arachel asks.

Joshua seems genuinely confused by her question.

“I thought it only mattered if it rhymed?”

L’Arachel hums thoughtfully.

“How about…’Dazzling meals all day! Come and join us for our expert sorbet!”

“We don’t serve sorbet,” Innes sighs. “It should be relevant to our menu.”

“If you’re so good at it, why haven’t you come up with anything?” L’Arachel huffs, snatching the stand away from him. “Since I’m feeling generous today, I’ll aid you. Let’s see…” She turns away, gaze wandering as she attempts to come up with something passible. “How about—No, that’s not good….What if—No…Not that either…Hey, what rhymes with orange?”

“Give me that.” Innes makes to take it back but L’Arachel shifts away, clutching it to her chest.

“No! You had your chance. No frozen yogurt for you!”

“This wouldn’t be a problem if you hadn’t told me to do it in the first place! You know I’m bad at it!”

“If you could just be relevant and clever!“

“How dare you! You are the one that lacks self-awareness!”

L’Arachel gasps, throwing the menu board onto the ground. Innes figures it’ll have another scratch or two added to its collection.

“Are you really doing this to me right now? _Really_? Do you want me to bring up the fact that, yeah, your technique for sautéing? It leaves _much_ to be desired.”

“Not as much as _your reducing_ does. The customers want some moisture in their sauces, _in case you didn’t know, Ms. Executive Chef.”_

_“I think you’d best go back to culinary school, you self-important, amateurish, newbie!”_

_“Why don’t you join me there, you archaic, self-righteous, prima donna!”_

“ _Do you want to take this outside?_ ”

“We’re _already_ _outside_!”

“Why don’t I do it?” Joshua’s suggestion is immediately met with two aggressive no’s. “…Okay then. I’m gonna call Gerik then.”

“ _No_!”

“Too late, I’m already here,” Gerik smiles at the three of them, amused by their terrified expressions. “What’s all the ruckus about? Fighting?”

“ _No_ ,” L’Arachel picks up and shoves the board onto Innes, ignoring his glare. “I was simply…instructing my beloved employees on the intricacies of the written word.”

“They were arguing about the message,” Joshua explains. “We don’t know what to write.”

“Is that it?” They all nod. “It’s no big deal. You weren’t going to disinvite each other from frozen yogurt over it again, were you?”

“She was,” Innes smirks at L’Arachel’s betrayed look. “Quite rude, isn’t it?”

“You kids better be nice to each other,” Gerik scolds. “No arguing in this house, understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I wasn’t even fighting with them?” Joshua defends himself. “I was an innocent bystander offering my aid.”

“You did good.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Anyway, can’t you two go a day without causing a scene?” Gerik asks, sighing when Innes and L’Arachel shrink back. “Relax. Do your best with it and head back inside. We’ve still got some prep to do.”

“Yeah Innes, do your best with it,” L’Arachel huffs, turning away. “Since you’re so clever and witty and perfect and—“ She stops short, shoulders tensing.

“…What is it?” Innes asks, concerned by his friend’s sudden silence. He follows her gaze, eyes narrowing as he attempts to search for the cause.

Was it some decor item she wanted but was never able to get? Or maybe the outdoor seating? What about the shininess of the windows? No, it couldn’t be. He and Gerik had spent the entire morning cleaning Rausten’s.

What else could it possibly—

He finds it.

“Wow.” Is the only thing he can bring himself to say. “That _is_ funny.”

“ _Innes,_ ” L’Arachel’s tone is eerily kind as she turns to face him, her smile vicious. “May I ask why your sister is currently _colluding with the enemy?_ ”

“She works there.”

“ _Why?_ ”

Innes shrugs, masking his uneasiness at what was to come with nonchalance. Joshua’s cheeky grin assures him it doesn’t work.

“It’s news to me.”

“ _Tell her to stop_.”

“I’m _not_ going to dictate where Tana can work. She’s free to make her own decisions.”

“ _But Innes—_ “

“ _No_.”

“Hello Tana!” Gerik calls out, returning her enthusiastic wave. “Wonderful mornin’, ain’t it?

“Hi everyone!” Tana exclaims from across the plaza. “It _is!_ ” The customers she’s waiting on laugh at her bubbly greeting. Innes is well aware she’s always had a way of lightening whatever atmosphere she was put into.

“Traitor!” L’Arachel cries back. “I would have hired you in a heartbeat!”

“No thanks! I’m fine here!”

“There’s your answer,” Joshua’s laughs, walking back into Rausten’s. “Good luck with that menu board message.”

“Weren’t you going to help me?” Innes asks.

“Nah, not anymore.”

“Wow, okay. Nice.”

“Love you too, Ness.”

“Sure is a good day for salt, isn’t it?” Gerik comments out of the blue, winking at Innes and pointing to the board. “I’m sure there’s enough to go around for everyone.”

“…Oh. I guess.”

As L’Arachel complains his ear off about his treachery by condoning his sister’s behavior, Innes gets to finishing the accursed message so he can finally be done with it.

_‘Extra helpings of salt available by request’_

Nodding to himself for a job well done, he sets the board down where people passing by can read it, proceeding to drag L’Arachel inside to actually get to work for the day. Gerik follows closely behind, patting him on the back, unperturbed by the entire ordeal.

 

* * *

 

“What’s going on out there?” Eirika asks Tana when she returns from jotting down orders.

“Oh, nothing,” She responds, smiling. "I was just saying hi to everyone across the street.”

“Are you acquainted with them?”

“Yup. My brother works there. He’s the sou chef.”

“Ah, I see.” Eirika nods to herself, putting the pieces together. “What a coincidence.”

“Not really. I came here on purpose.”

“Stirring the pot?” Eirika raises an eyebrow, amused. “I didn’t take you for the type.”

“I just like indulging in life’s ironies,” Tana replies, laughing. “It’s so much fun.”

The strangled screams and arguing across the plaza are a strange sort of background noise in the morning, but one Tana could grow accustomed to. They would have to forgive her, because it really wasn’t all that big a deal in the first place.

“They’re kinda funny,” Ephraim says, popping out of the kitchen, eyeing the four Rausten employees going back and forth with one another. “I wonder if they ever get tired of yelling at each other, though?”

“No,” Tana answers firmly. “They really don’t.”

“Maybe we should yell at each other more?" Ephraim suggests to Eirika. "It would create drama and intrigue.”

“We are _not_ doing that,” She replies flatly. “It may work for them, but I’m not going to have you fooling around on duty. The only drama I need are the ones on television.”

“You’re so boring.”

“And _you_ should be in the kitchen.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Ephraim holds up his hands in peaceful surrender. “I’m just saying, Forde thought it was a _great_ idea.”

“And everyone else?”

“Kyle said it was stupid, Franz said he couldn’t bring himself to scream at anyone, Lute said only if everyone got on her level and…what do you think Tana?”

“I think it’s a stupid idea.”

“There you have it,” Eirika says. “No drama.”

“Whatever,” Ephraim rolls his eyes. “I’m just going to go back to my station and have my ideas ignored. Like always.”

“You exaggerate.”

“Do I really?”

“If you came up with better ones, maybe I’d be willing to listen.”

“Ouch,” Tana winces. “Rest in pieces, lesser twin.”

“You mean _awesome twin._ And if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be somewhere that isn’t here.”

“Thanks for the mercy, my dear brother.” Eirika replies dryly.

“You’re welcome.” Ephraim finally leaves, sulking back to his designated work area.

“…He’s pretty into this whole rivalry thing.” Tana remarks.

“I don’t know why,” Eirika sighs. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have humored them.”

“I think it adds some excitement. Customers are really liking the narrative so it’s good for business.”

“I just don’t want there to be any animosity.”

“That’s what sells, Ms. Eirika,” Tana responds. “Have some fun with it. But if you really don’t like it, I’ll ask my brother to tell L’Arachel to cool it. She gets a little too over-excited about a lot of things.”

“Thank you for that.”

“No problem.”

“ _Hah!_ ” Ephraim bursts out of the kitchens once again. “My boy Seth has got my back! He said he’d be willing to throw a chair at me and toss me onto a table for the sake of a staged fight. Ain’t that right, old man?”

“If Eirika really wants me to do that…?” Seth pops his head out of the doors, eyeing Eirika uncertainly. “I don’t know why you would but if it’ll help us…”

“I never said anything to that effect.”

“Then I’ll do it anyway,” Seth glares at Ephraim. “Don’t lie to me, boy. You know better.”

“Let them do it, Eirika!” Forde forces his way out from behind Seth. “I’ll record it and upload it on EmblemTube! We’ll get millions of views and people will stop by from all over just for a chance to see your brother get wrecked by an elderly dude!”

“Stop calling me that,” Forde shrinks back at Seth’s irritated tone. “I’m not old.”

“There’s no shame in embracing your age, grandpa. Chicks dig that daddy kink.“

“Oh my god, shut up,” Kyle shoves Forde to one side, ignoring his pained yelp as he hits the wall. “I am so sorry for these morons, Eirika. We’ll get back to work now.”

“So I’m _not_ smashing Ephraim’s head in with breakaway glass…?” Franz timidly asks as he peeks towards the dining area. “Is that—We’re not doing that?”

“ _No._ ” Eirika’s smile is icy. “And it would be in all of your best interests to get back to work and not bring this up in front of me _ever again._ ”

“…”

“…”

“…So are you saying _you_ want to throw a chair at me?”

“ _Ephraim!_ ”

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe your sister. How dare she flaunt her employment in front of me? Doesn’t she know how that breaks my weary heart?”

“I don’t think she cares.”

“So unfeeling. You two really are related.”

“Whine all you want. It won’t make Tana any more willing to work here,” Innes responds, buckling the strap of L’Arachel’s spare helmet under his chin. “She refuses to accept something she hasn’t worked for.”

“But that’s better than working at ‘ _The Place that Shall Not be Named_ ’!”

“Clearly, she doesn’t think so.”

“Ugh,” L’Arachel groans, revving the engine of her Vespa. “This is so _lame_. They’ll pay for spirting away my sweet angel,” She vows, clicking her tongue. “Fall Fest is coming up soon isn’t it? I wonder if they’ll be competing?”

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t,” It was a competition Innes and L’Arachel always looked forward to whenever the season approached. Teams made up of pairs faced off against one another, each hailing from different restaurants all across the city. Rausten followed a seasonal rotation that ensured every one of their chefs competed. They’d managed to pick up quite a few victories in past events, and would hopefully do the same with the upcoming one as well. “It’s good publicity.”

Their city, heck, probably the entirety of Magvel was gourmet to the core and bought into culinary showdowns whenever it could. He’d heard something about ambassadors from Hoshido popularizing the contests, but never fully researched the matter.

Whatever the reason, Innes certainly chose the correct career path.

“If they are, maybe we can get Joshua and Gerik to swap out with us for winter?” L’Arachel wonders. “Ahhh, I wanna crush them so bad! Don’t you, Innes?”

“I want to win, but I don’t particularly care against who,” He hops into the sidecar, making himself comfortable. “Did you get this resized?”

“You kept complaining about your legs getting cramped so I took it back to the shop. Rennac kindly gave me a discount and everything.”

“You mean you coerced him into giving it to you.”

“I call it playful bartering,” She slides her helmet visor down over her eyes. “I know he feels no obligation towards me, but show him a stack of bills and he relents. It’s better than getting nothing, after all.”

They drive off into the night, the cool breeze whipping their hair to and fro. There’s no traffic to worry about at this late an hour, so L’Arachel zips down the road at leisure.

“Y’know!” L’Arachel yells over the the roar of her scooter. “Before they set up shop, I was thinking things were getting a bit too stale for my tastes. Now, it’s like ideas are bursting out from my very soul! So many different dining room set ups, specials, recipes I’ve been testing out with Uncle, everything! I’m so giddy, I get home and want to rush back to work as soon as possible! I want to—“ She screeches into the night sky. “I want to get back in the kitchen so bad, but I’m stuck in my office most of the time! It’s so infuriating! Frustrating! _Annoying!_ ”

“It’d be good to have you—N-Not that I _miss you_ or anything. Just—You’re a _good chef.”_

 _“_ There’s nothing more pleasing to the ear than someone who cannot be honest. _”_

“You’re not talking about me, are you? _”_

“Of course not.”

Innes is unconvinced, but lets it slide.

“Still, we were an unstoppable force back then weren’t we?” L’Arachel says. “I almost miss it, except I really don’t.”

Before Rausten was able to hire the bulk of their staff after the Disaster of post-Mansel pre-L’Arachel, Innes remembers hectic days, the two of them struggling in their over-ambitious attempt to manage a fine dining establishment fresh out of culinary school. He recalls them rushing about in roller skates as they took orders, just to be more more efficient, because they _also_ had to cook everything themselves _and_ serve it. He remembers his aching feet, the way they both practically collapsed into two heaps of gelatin the moment the doors closed for the night. Late nights sorting out finances, supplies, shipment dates, and running on two or three hours of sleep before they had to get up to do it again the next day ( _or later the same day)._

It was stressful at the same time it was exhilarating, putting aside their complete and utter exhaustion. He’s grateful they no longer have to stretch themselves so thin, but the memories of how idiotic they were for thinking they could handle everything all by themselves still held a warm place in his heart.

“It was great fun,” L’Arachel slows to a halt as they reach a red traffic light. “I can’t wait for Fall Fest so I can polish up on my skills. I don’t want to get rusty.”

“What’s Fall Fest?”

“What?” L’Arachel glances down at Innes. “What do you mean? Why would you ask that?”

“That wasn’t me.”

“Oh.”

“Over here.” Repeats the voice, coming from the next lane over.

“Yo,” Ephraim offers a casual wave, helmet obscuring his fate. Eirika greets them as well, seated behind her brother on an, in Innes’s opinion, tacky looking motorcycle. “Nice ride.”

“Thanks,” L’Arachel brightens at the compliment, her pride in the vehicle evident. "It’s a Vespa. Imported all the way from Nestra.”

“Must have cost a fortune.”

“Eh, I have connections.”

“I like the side-car. Is it comfortable?”

“It gets the job done,” Innes responds, shifting. “This has more padding in it now, doesn’t it?”

L’Arachel huffs.

“Who was the one who kept nagging me about their _little tush hurting?_ “

“There was no need to elaborate.”

“Maybe I should get one of those. What do you think, Eirika?”

“It…well, I’d be too embarrassed to get in…N-Not that you look silly or anything Innes!” Eirika quickly tries to cover her blatant inadvertent insult. “It’s just— _I wouldn’t._ ”

“A beggar cannot be a chooser,” Innes remarks, having lost any sense of shame for riding around in a sidecar printed with stars, sparkles, and hearts. Even the helmets were custom made, decorative feather-like attachments on either side, their pearly white sheen almost blinding with the amount of care their owner treated them with. It suited L’Arachel a great deal and she insisted him as well, although Innes had a feeling she was only saying that because she enjoyed lugging around a passenger (namely _him_ ) through town as if they were on a sacred journey of some kind. “Dignity matters little in the face of convenience.”

“Don’t you have a license?” Ephraim asks. “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with being a passenger in a Vespa, but you don’t _have to be_.”

“You have absolutely no idea what you are suggesting. License? _Innes?_ ” L’Arachel’s incredulous tone is kinda offensive. “Step into a vehicle with this menace and you’ll understand why that’s _a terrible idea.”_

 _“_ I’m not _that_ bad _.”_

“Tell that to the years of life I lost trying to instruct you.”

“You can’t even drive a car!”

“I _choose_ not to. I wouldn’t trust you with a _bicycle._ ”

“Whatever,” Innes scowls. So what if he couldn’t drive? And more often than not exceeded the speed limit and got a little annoyed with other drivers? Not to mention forgot what turn signals were and was confused by the stupid, difficult to manage mirrors? It hardly mattered. Walking was healthier and taking the bus or train or carpool better for the environment. It was more convenient in the city, anyway. Parking was overrated. “I can ride a bike just fine.”

“That’s interesting to know,” Ephraim smile only earns him a glare from Innes. “But, anyway, what’s Fall Fest?”

“Hm?…Oh yes! If you’re in the dining scene, you have to know what it’s all about! It’s—“ L’Arachel takes the time to explain, in great detail, the specifics of the event. Innes watches the stoplight change from red to yellow to green various times. It’s a relief there are no other vehicles around, but it makes him sleepy all the same.

He’s about to nod off when L’Arachel feels the need to slap his helmet, starling him back into coherency.

“Wha—! Why would you do that?” He demands. “That was uncalled for.”

“Are you not paying attention? They said they’ll be entering!”

“Oh. That's nice,” Innes responds. “Good luck.”

“Thanks but I doubt we’ll need it.” Ephraim replies, readjusting the gloves on his hands.

“What do you mean?” Innes asks, eyes narrowing.

“Well, we’re gonna win. Luck has nothing to do with skill,” Ephraim says as if it’s obvious, as if Innes _wouldn’t_ take offense to being slighted in such an off-hand matter. “Can’t wait.”

“That’s hilarious, because last time I checked, _we_ were the ones who would be victorious. An easy mistake to make on your part, but not surprising.”

“Not surprising?” Ephraim laughs. “You’re an odd guy, Innes. It’ll be awesome to take you down a peg or two.”

“Not as satisfying at it will be to wipe that stupidly smug look clean off your face,” Innes’s words are drenched in venom. This was only their second conversation and he was already growing to detest Ephraim’s over-confident demeanor. To think he’d spoken well of this man’s Mille-Feuille _._ _He took it all back_. “I don’t take kindly to being looked down on.”

“I’m not doing that though? I mean, if you lose, which you _will_ , I’ll probably have to reassess my initial impression of you.”

Innes’s blood boils. How _dare_ this man provoke him like this? How _dare_ he be so _condescending_? So _patronizing?_

Only _Innes_ was allowed to behave that way.

“We’ll see about that. Although I’m sure you’ll no doubt only reaffirm _my_ initial impression of _you_.” Innes bites back, not about to be one-upped. _Oh_ , he would enjoy embarrassing this tool on television. _He would relish it_.

“And what would that be?”

“ _Amateurish and mediocre,”_ Innes sneers, making sure to enunciate each syllable. “Leaving _much_ to be desired.”

“ _I can’t wait to stomp all over you.”_

 _“Likewise_.”

“Innes~” L’Arachel sing songs. “Please be seated~ It’s dangerous to lean outside like that.”

“Stop that, Ephraim,” Eirika scolds. “You’ll tip the both of us over.”

In the midst of their smack talk, neither had noticed just close they’d gotten, both painfully leaning over their respective vehicles. They were practically nose to nose, gazes fierce enough to burn proverbial holes into one another. Neither looks away, unwilling to back down from their battle of pride.

“…You’ve got real pretty eyes,” Ephraim breaks the tense silence with a curveball. “I wonder if they’ll look even prettier when you’re crying over losing to me?”

 _“Wha—You—!“_ Innes isn’t even allowed a comeback, because L’Arachel pulls him by the collar, back into his seat.

“Fierce words, Ephraim. We’ll see whether you can back those up accordingly.” She responds in his place. “Fall Fest will certainly be exciting!”

“We’ll see you there,” Eirika says. “May the better chef win.”

“Naturally.”

Finally, both pairs drive off in their respective directions. Innes is astounded by how long they spent at a single intersection. He’s equally as irritated by the fact that Ephraim got the last word. If it weren’t for L’Arachel’s intervention, he _so_  would have replied with something clever and demoralizing.

“I change my mind, L’Arachel.”

“About what?” She asks, eyes focused on the road.

“I want to win against _him_ ,” Innes growls. He’d win and shove it in _Ephraim’s_ teary eyed, dumb, arrogant face. “We’re _definitely_ swapping with Gerik and Joshua.”

“That’s the spirit!” L’Arachel grins at his renewed motivation. “I’m sure they won’t mind.”

Innes hopes they won’t, because he would not be giving up this opportunity to make Ephraim _pay for his insolence_.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t you think that was a little unnecessary?”

“You think?” Ephraim hums, the slightest of smiles playing on his lips as he parks his motorbike. “I didn’t think he’d get so riled up. That look on his face was—Well, I’m looking forward to competing against him.”

“And the eye comment?”

“I was being honest.”

“ _Riiight_.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” Eirika shrugs, turning away from him. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You totally are.”

“Nope. Are you staying the night?”

“I can’t take her home on my bike so yeah.”

“Dad’s going to have a few choice words for you.”

“When doesn’t he?” Ephraim sighs, following behind his sister as she unlocks the door.Passing through the family room, they’re met with a snoring Fado seated on his favorite recliner, head-lulled to one side.

“Score. He’s asleep,” Ephraim pumps his fist. “No lecture—“

“I ain’t asleep boy,” Their father’s eyes snap open. “Welcome home, Eirika.”

“I’m back,” She greets, passing through the room to put her things away. “How was your day?”

“I got destroyed at checkers by a child.”

“Sounds fun.”

“For this old man? Of course it was,” Fado laughs merrily. “She’s as sharp as her granddaddy. Don’t tell him I said that, though.”

“Is he sleeping?”

“He was falling asleep waiting for you so I told him I’d wait on my own. He put up a fight but I won out in the end.”

“Such a worrier,” Eirika smiles fondly. “Father knows he shouldn’t mess with his sleep schedule. He’s such a pain to wake up in the morning.”

“Morva’s no match for my military— _I see you_ tryin’ to slip away, lad. Come back here.”

Ephraim groans, halfway up the staircase when he has to sheepishly make his return.

It never failed to make him feel like a child when Fado ordered him around. He was _an adult dammit_ , not the same ten year old who knocked over expensive vases and tried to stupidly hide it from his parents by throwing the pieces into the fish tank and hoping they blended in well enough not to be noticed.

It never worked but Morva always complimented his creativity. Fado, not so much.

“Yes?”

“Don’t yes me,” He points to the upstairs. “You missed her bedtime.”

“I know,” Ephraim sighs. “I know.”

“I don’t know how many times I’ve had to remind you but—“

“—I need to make an effort, I know. Can we just fast-forward through this?”

“ _Ephraim—_ ”

“ _—Dad, I_ _really don’t_ want to hear this right now. You think I don’t know? Because _I do_ and I already feel like shit about it.”

“Listen and don’t interrupt,” Eirika says from wherever in the house she is. “Stop playing the victim.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Relax, Ephraim,” Fado says. “We’re not here to put you in a corner. We’re just offering some well-meant advice. We know you do your best.”

“Doesn’t feel like it…” Ephraim grumbles.

“If it comes across that way, then I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make you feel bad. You need to understand that,” Fado explains. “I just want you to manage your time better. I don’t mind lending a helping hand, but who’s the father here?”

“…Me.”

“ _You_. And _she_ needs _you_.”

“…I know.”

“I know you know. So what are you going to do?”

“Manage my time better and be proactive.”

“And?”

“…Be more present?”

“…I’ve never said that but—“

“I said it,” Eirika offers from a completely different direction. Ephraim guesses she’s in her study. “Because it’s true.”

“Okay, also follow your sister’s advice. She’s the only competent adult in this household.”

“I think that includes me too,” Morva joins in from some other part of the house. Maybe the upstairs bathroom? “She gets it from me.”

“That’s obvious, Father,” Eirika responds with a pleased laugh. “Good night everyone.”

“Goodnight, princess.”

“Goodnight, lass.”

“Goodnight, sis.”

“So yeah, be more present,” Fado concludes, getting up. “All right, dad talk over. I’m going to bed. You best go check on her and not lose out on those precious childhood interactions. Soon enough she’ll be grown and telling you not to go anywhere near her because you’re so damn old!”

“We never did that to you.”

“Because I’m a good parent who established order. No one tells Fado he’s too old for anything.”

“Careful going up the stairs. Don’t want you breaking anything.”

“Screw off.” Fado scowls, disappearing down the hall.

“…Damn,” Ephraim lets out a heavy sigh. “Better go see her…” He mutters to himself, ascending the staircase once again.

Softly, he pushes the door to the guest room open, peeking inside. The bundle on the bed jumps at the sound, collapsing onto the mattress motionless a few seconds too late.

“It’s past your bedtime, kiddo. There’s no tricking me.” Ephraim gently peels back the covers, revealing a little girl clutching a flashlight, coloring book, and box of crayons to her chest.

“Ya got me…” She sighs, sitting up and placing her things onto the nightstand. “Welcome back.”

“I’m home, Myrrh,” He ruffles her hair, smiling as she leans into his touch. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“I was waiting for you. Grandpa and Grandad said you were gonna be late, but I still wanted to stay up.”

“I’d rather you be sleeping, but you’ve made my day. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” She laughs. “I’m happy I got to see you.”

“I’m glad I got to see you too,” Ephraim replies. “But you really _should_ be asleep. You’re a real sleepy head in the morning. Maybe even a slugabed.”

“No way! I’m not!”

“Are you sure?”

“I am! I wake up earlier than you. That makes _you_ a slugabed.”

“Don’t turn this around on me.”

“Don’t call me a slugabed,” Myrrh pouts. “We were late today because of _you_ , remember?”

“...Oh yeah. My bad.”

“Really Dad, you should be more responsible.”

“I know, honey,” Ephraim takes a nearby chair and sets it next to the beside, taking a seat. “On that note, since I doubt you’ll be able to get to sleep so soon, why don’t you tell me about your day?”

“My day?”

“Yeah. From the very beginning. Pretty responsible of me to ask, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but it does make me happy,” Myrrh grins, tapping a finger against her chin. “Okay, um, today we were both a little late because you overslept and wouldn’t wake up no matter how much I shook you. We only got to eat cereal, even though I was looking forward to your croque madame…”

“Sorry about that. Maybe tomorrow.”

“I hope so. I got to school and—Oh! My friend asked to change seats and now she sits next to me!” Myrrh happily informs Ephraim.

“Her name is…Tiki, right?”

“You remembered! U-huh! She’s the best!” Myrrh clasps her hands together against her chest. “She’s so nice and she’s friends with everyone and isn’t scared of anything! She always raises her hand to answer questions and she always asks me what I want to play and never says mean things to me and I-I—“ She whimpers, choked up with emotion. “I l-like her so much…I’ve never had a f-f-friend like her…”

“That’s great, champ,” Ephraim rubs her back soothingly. His greatest fear since their move to city was finally put to rest. Myrrh making friends and looking forward to going to school was all he could ever ask for. After the disaster that was their previous attempt to assimilate as a family, this was a welcome change. Myrrh being _happy_ was _always_ a welcome change. “I’m sure she thinks the same about you.”

“Y-You think so?” Myrrh sniffles. “I’d be happy if she did.”

“I don’t think there’s a person on Earth who’s met you and _doesn’t_ think you’re the coolest, smartest, and sweetest person they’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“Dad!” Myrrh whines. ”That’s so embarassin’…”

“No, it’s not. It’s the _truth._ ”

“…I think you’re pretty cool too.”

“Who do you think you get it from?”

“Dad!”

“It’s not a lie,” Ephraim laughs, bringing Myrrh in for a hug. “I don’t say anything I don’t mean. You’re the greatest friend anyone could have. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Okay…” Myrrh mumbles against his chest, unable to contain the yawn that escapes her lips.

“Sleepy?”

“I think so,” She responds, lying down. “Yeah, m’tired…G’night Dad…”

“Good night, sweetpea,” Ephraim brings the comforter up to her chin. “See you in the morning.”

“Mhm. Love ya…”

“I love you, too.” Ephraim makes his exit, leaving the door open a crack, just enough for light to peek through to ward away any scary monsters looking for trouble.

Not that Ephraim couldn’t take them down single-handedly, but for Myrrh’s peace of mind, it would do.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What exactly is Ephraim and Myrrh's situation? We'll get into it eventually! For clarification, Fado and Morva are Ephraim and Eirika's parents. There's more to this family but I'll leave the explanations for later.
> 
> also  
> there's a reason why Innes is a sniper and not a ranger in FE8. he can probably ride a pegasus just fine though
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	4. Saccharine Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where there's implied preparation for battle.  
> Also, special visitors to Rausten unintentionally bring about a spider web of connections.

Joshua and Gerik give up their spots easily enough.

Neither one is much for competition and L’Arachel’s insistence leaves no room for discussion. Innes questions whether it’s even worth the amount of effort they’re putting into such a petty rivalry, but when he’s reminded of Ephraim’s smug expression, he pushes those reservations aside.

This was for his _honor._ His _pride._

“This is so exciting,” Marisa remarks in the most monotone voice she can muster when she’s informed of the entire ordeal. The excitement is clear as day in her eyes, though. “I can’t wait to see you in Kitchen Stadium. Like, I think cooking is kinda boring to watch, but if it’s you guys maybe it won’t make me fall asleep?”

“As if my cooking could be labeled anything but exciting,” L’Arachel exclaims. “We’ll put on a show you’ll never forget. Mark my words!”

“It’s just cooking…”

“ _Marisa_!” L’Arachel gasps. “It _isn’t_ just _cooking!_ It’s art! It’s passion! A love and care the likes of which you could never imagine! It’s—!”

“I think she gets it,” Innes cuts in, saving them all the impending impassioned speech. “Feel free to skip out if you’re not interested.”

“No way are we doing that,” Joshua responds, throwing an arm around Innes’s shoulders. “Seeing you this hyped up is just making me more curious. What’d this guy say to get you so riled up?” He pauses. “I mean, not that it takes much in the first place, but still.”

“He implied he was better than him,” L’Arachel explains. “He made some other comments I don’t care enough to bring up, but that’s the general gist of it.”

“That’ll do it,” Gerik says, laughing off Innes’s glare. “Relax. I’m sure you’ll teach ‘em a lesson they won’t soon forget. We’ll be rootin’ for the both of ya.”

“We’ll do that and then some!” L’Arachel squeals, clasping her hands together. “How exciting! I’ll wear my best uniform and display the Rausten crest with pride. Uncle will be so proud.”

“We’ve already won a few times,” Joshua says. “I doubt it will be _that_ different.”

“No, I sense this battle will be decisive. Life-changing. Eye-opening.”

“Is that what your horoscope told you?”

“…Maybe. That’s hardly relevant though,” L’Arachel shrugs. “I’ve just got a good feeling is all. Whatever the outcome, it’ll be for the better.”

“Cheers to that,” Gerik raises a glass of sparkling fruit juice (they could hardly risk being inebriated getting home), the rest following suit. “And a toast to Rausten continuing to be one hell of a restaurant.”

“Cheers!”

The coming weeks bring as much work as ever for Innes, with him and L’Arachel taking extra time to work on their team synergy. It goes about as well as it can (they only argue _three times_ as much) but it serves to boost Innes’s confidence in their chances of winning.

Tana feels the need to inform him of Renais’s progress, even though he doesn’t really care to hear about it.

“Ephraim is being so extra about it,” Tana complains to him one day when he’s helping blow-dry her hair. “I get _you_ acting that way. You’re extra in general.”

“Okay.”

“But he’s all—I don’t know how I should explain it. He makes us try his dishes and while I’m appreciative, I don’t think it’s necessary. I asked Eirika about it. She said he’s always been very competitive. Just like you.”

“Don’t compare me to that cretin.”

“That’s not nice,” Tana laughs, flipping through her phone. “Hey, you think I should get a pair of these? I’ve got something similar in blue but red seems nice.”

“Get them in black,” Innes replies. “The red is nice, but black will serve you better.”

“Cool,” Tana nods. “But yeah, I think the both of you would get along if you really got to know each other. You’re pretty similar.”

“Again, don’t compare me to that ill-mannered, arrogant moron,” Innes huffs, skillfully moving on to braiding Tana’s hair. There was so much of it, he wondered if she ever considered snipping it all off. Then again, he wasn’t inclined to do the same with his own hair so expecting the same of his sister was idiotic. “Getting along? I highly doubt it.”

“You can’t say that until you’ve tried.”

“Being friends is good Nessy,” Tiki chimes in, passing by the bathroom. “I like it when you make friends.”

“You can’t be friends with everyone,” Innes responds. “I don’t want to be his friend.”

“Don’t be that way,” Tana sighs. “You never know how well you can hit it off.”

“I think so too,” Tiki agrees. “Still, even if I think it’s better for you to get along, I can’t wait for you to be on the newspaper for winning against that guy. I feel bad for everyone else, but you and Elly are gonna be number one!”

“Don’t encourage him, honey,” Tana warns. "You know how full of it big brother gets.”

“You are so disrespectful,” Innes frowns. “This is why Tiki is my favorite.”

Tiki cheers.

“Yay!”

“I don’t care!” Tana bites back. “Tiki is _my_ favorite too, so _there_!”

“Double yay!”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s days before the competition that Innes finds himself peacefully helping clear tables on a particularly slow day, alongside Marisa and a cheerful Dozla who’s telling them about the one time he single-handedly rescued an entire family from a house fire.

“I’ve still got the scars on my arms,” He lets out a hearty laugh. “Nothing can hold back a man who fights for justice. Aren’t I right?”

“Probably,” Marisa responds, inspired. “You’re so cool. I wish I could rip apart a door with my bare hands.”

“I don’t think anyone here doubts you can do that,” Gerik chimes in, passing by with a crate of vegetables. “Remember when you dislocated Joshua’s arm that one time? When we were arm-wrestling?”

“That was quite the sight,” Dozla says. “I’d never seen the boy shed tears before that day.”

“I _am_ pretty strong, aren’t I?” Marisa smiles bashfully. “Maybe one day I’ll be able to save someone by tearing through a building like you, Dozla.”

“I don’t doubt it, my girl!”

“Hey Innes?” Joshua appears from the front. “You’ve got some visitors.”

“Should we be afraid?” Gerik asks, placing a hand on Innes’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, tough guy. We’ve got your back.”

“Are they hoodlums? Just say the word!” Dozla flexes an arm, giving it a firm pat. “We’ll clear them out for you in no time!”

“I can get the golf club Boss keeps in her office?” Marisa offers.

“Why are you all jumping to conclusions?” Innes sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t keep company any of you should be concerned about.”

“Unless two tiny chickadees are cause for alarm, no worries.” Joshua laughs.

Already sure of who’s come to pay him a visit, Innes heads towards the entrance. There weren’t any other pint-sized individuals he could think of who would willingly seek him out besides the obvious one.

“Hi Nessy,” As expected, Tiki greets him, gripping the straps of her book bag. “Ahem. I mean, _hello sir._ Table for two please.”

“ _What_ are you doing here?” Innes asks, an edge to his tone. He would have a word about this with Tana later. “Aren’t you supposed to be at home? Why are you by yourself?”

Tiki pouts.

“That’s the first thing you ask? Aren’t you happy to see me? And after I came all this way, too!”

“Did you walk here _by yourself?_ ”

“No! Nessy you dummy! Tana had to go to work last minute, so she dropped me off here,” She explains. “And can you believe it? We ran into my friend on the way!”

“Did you?” It’s then that Innes notices the figure cowering behind his sister, staring down at her feet. If she hadn’t mentioned it, Innes doubts he would have noticed her presence.

“Yup! Come on. It’s all right,” Tiki takes the other girl’s hand in her own, squeezing it comfortingly. “Introduce yourself.”

“U-Um—!” The girl looks up, squeaking when their eyes meet. “I-I’m—M-My name is Myrrh! I-It’s very nice to m-m-meet you!” She’s so meek, it makes Innes feel like he’s confronting a delicate, skittish animal. Very rabbit-like. One false move on his part and she would go running for the hills.

Deciding he’d rather _not_ have that happen, he softens his expression the best that he can (more of a neutral face than anything). Tiki having friends was good. Making a positive impression on them was important.

“Likewise. My name is Innes,” He responds in as mild a tone as he could manage. “I suppose since we have such honored company today, it would be in our best interest to provide you with our utmost quality service.”

“You sound like an old man,” Tiki giggles, walking past him while leading Myrrh along. “Can we get the booth that’s close to the fish tank? I told her you guys have one that looks like Nemo.”

“We do. Is that all right with you?” Innes asks Myrrh directly. “You have free reign considering the place is deserted.”

“Y-Yes, it’s fine,” Myrrh nods. “I wanted to see the fish since Tiki said they were pretty.”

After they place their orders, Tiki makes a grand show of naming each and every marine creature while Myrrh attentively listens to her every word. It’s a sweet sight, watching his sister interact with someone her own age and be so considerate towards their comfort and well-being. Innes was never really able to witness it much on account of living apart from his parents.

Now that he thought about it, he probably missed out on a great deal of Tiki’s day to day life. When was the last time he visited home for more than a few minutes at a time?

Well, there was little he could do about it now.

Deciding to set that train of thought aside for the moment, Innes goes ahead with preparing their meals. He takes extra time to make sure they are each nutritionally balanced. He wouldn’t be skimping on the vegetables simply because Tiki had company.

Gerik makes an off-hand comment about him being a good brother while Joshua helps with the presentation out of lack of anything else to do, helping him finish faster than he otherwise would have on his own. Dozla has mysteriously vanished once again, not that it was unusual, but he had to wonder where it was he went without saying a word to anyone.

Innes returns to the table soon enough, carefully setting the dishes in front of each child.

“Here you are.”

“Thanks!”

“Um…”

“Yes?” Innes looks to Myrrh, who bites her lip as though she is unsure of whether she should speak or not. “Is something the matter?”

“N-No. It’s just…Those…” She points to the silver domes covering both plates. “…That’s called a cloche, isn’t it?”

Innes blinks.

“…It is,” He responds, impressed by her observation. “Would you happen to know why that is?”

“Because…they look like bells, right?”

“You’re well informed.”

“I read about it is all…”

“Do you read a lot?”

“Um, yes, but it’s not—I—How should I say this?”

“Take your time.”

Myrrh seems relieved by his response

“Well…It’s not like it’s my favorite subject but…my dad is a chef too, so I like to know about the things he does for work and what he uses to cook and stuff.”

“That’s admirable. I’m sure he appreciates your effort.”

“Hehe,” Myrrh smiles shyly. “Thank you. I hope he does.”

“Quite the difference from this one,” Innes gestures to Tiki. “She insists on calling them UFOs.”

“They look like little space ships aliens would ride around in!” Tiki defends herself. “ _I_ would if _I_ were an alien!”

“I’m sure they would too,” Myrrh says appeasingly. Innes assumes she’s figured out _exactly_ how to handle his youngest sister. “I like the fancy ones with pretty designs. I have one in my room. Oh! But it doesn’t have food under it or anything. I just like looking at it.”

“I’ve got little dragon figures in my room. My Uncle Ban-Ban makes them for me and sends them through the mail.”

“He makes them?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s amazing!”

“Right? Ban-Ban is the best. Isn’t he, Nessy?”

“He is indeed an upstanding gentleman.”

“I’d like to see him make one…”

“Not even I can, Myrrh.” Tiki says. “He’s in Archanea with my Grandaddy.”

“Is Archanea far away?”

“It’s across the ocean. You need to take a plane to get there. We don’t go a lot because it’s s _uuu_ per expensive.”

“Oh,” Myrrh nods solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Tiki assures her. “We use video call and send each other letters. It’s all fine!”

“I hope you can see each other soon.”

“Thanks!” Tiki grins. “Now it’s time to eat! Thank you for this wonderful meal, sir. It’s always a pleasure.”

“You better eat all of those vegetables.” Innes gives her a pointed look. “Don’t give me any nonsense about having a stomach ache or thinking you left the refrigerator running.”

“It’s always running because it’s always on,” Tiki bites backs with a scowl. “You can go now.”

“Insolent,” Innes rolls his eyes, looking to Myrrh. “If you need anything, feel free to approach me or anyone else here. We’re more than willing to offer our assistance. If it’s about homework, ask for me or L’Arachel. Don’t bother with anyone else.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Innes is fine.”

“Okay. Thank you, Mr. Innes.”

“That’s not fair!” Tiki complains, tugging at his sleeve. “You didn’t say any of that stuff to me!”

“It goes without saying for you.”

“Hmph.” Tiki watches her brother walk away, sticking her tongue out at his retreating figure.

“Your big brother really is nice,” Myrrh comments. “I was a little scared when I first saw him, but now I know you were right.”

“Yeah, Nessy is the best,” Tiki responds, placing her backpack aside. “He may look scary, especially when he’s doing his adult homework, but he’s actually just a grumpy pretty boy. At least, that’s what Elly says.”

“Elly?”

“L’Arachel. The person he said could help us with our homework. She can solve anything!”

“Anything?”

“ _Anything. Oh!”_ Tiki abruptly changes the subject. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“What is it?”

“You said that lady who picked you up was your auntie, right?”

“Yes,” Myrrh nods. “She’s my aunt Eirika.”

“And she works across the street, right?”

“I guess. I’ve actually never knew where she worked until today.”

“Huh…” Tiki frowns. “Then I guess you can’t answer my question.”

“I-I can try. Ask me anyway. I might know.”

“All right,” Tiki glances around their general vicinity to ensure no one is listening in on their conversation. She spots Marisa speaking with Innes all the way at the far end of the room. Deciding that’s sufficient enough space to be unable to hear them, she asks what’s been on her mind. “…Do you know someone named Ephraim?”

“…Ephraim?” Myrrh repeats, staring blankly at Tiki. “…Why?”

“He’s my brother’s rival!” Tiki whispers excitedly. “They’re gonna compete against each other at a cooking contest. D’you know what he’s like? Is he a big baddy? Or is he a good guy? Nessy really wants to kick his butt!”

“Kick his…” Myrrh covers her mouth. She shakes ever so slightly, startling Tiki.

“Did I say something bad? I’m sorry, Myrrh-Myrrh, I didn’t mean to! Did I—I’m sorry! Don’t cry!” Tiki stammers, panicking. She’d only just become friends with Myrrh and already ruined it! How could she make her cry?

Myrrh only shakes her head.

“If y-y-you cry th-th-then I-I-I’ll—!” Tiki sniffles, eyes flooding with tears. “I-I-I’ll—!”

“Hehe! Don’t cry Tiki,” Myrrh’s giggles catch her off guard. “I’m laughing!”

“Oh,” Tiki sighs in relief, any sign of sadness disappearing from her face astoundingly quick. “That’s good. What’d I say that was funny, though?”

“Is everything all right over there?” Innes calls out from across the room. “I would suggest eating before your food gets cold.”

“Okay!” Tiki yells back. She stares at Myrrh, expecting a response, but her friend only shakes her head, laughter finally dissipating.

“It’s nothing,” Myrrh responds with a cryptic smile, daintily picking up her knife and fork. “Let’s eat.”

 

* * *

 

“Myrrh is _where_?”

“Across the street,” Eirika replies briskly, brushing past her brother. How he found the time to stand around having conversations while they had a full house was beyond her. “You can see her later.”

“I want to see her _now,”_ He demands. The entire point of her coming was so she could see him be a pro at his job! Eirika might as well have left her with their father! “How could you leave her there? They _hate_ us.”

“No, they really don’t. You don’t need to be so worried. She’s spending some time with her friend. You know Tiki, don’t you? The one she’s always talking about?”

“That doesn’t mean anything! Why is she there in the first place?”

“Tiki is Tana’s sister. Tana reassured me she would be all right there. I trust Tana, therefore, I think it’s fine to let Myrrh socialize a little more. Besides, her brother is looking after them.”

“Is that supposed to reassure _me_? I don’t know who the hell Tana’s brother is!”

“You don’t? Isn’t that sad for you.”

“I’m going over there _now_.”

“We’re working, Ephraim. You can’t exactly leave.”

“Cover for me.”

“Wh—Come back here!”

Ephraim ignores his sister’s cries for him to return. He couldn’t believe she would just leave his daughter with a complete stranger! _She_ was supposed to be the smarter one!

He quickly saunters across the street, his eyes focused solely on Rausten’s front doors.

Whatever the reception, he would be _bringing his little girl back._

_This was his day to show off and get her to call him cool, dammit._

 

* * *

 

“You think it’s gonna snow soon?” Tiki asks, gazing out the window. “Because it’s freezing. If it’s gonna be cold, it may as well snow!”

“It’s not winter yet. Not that it makes much a difference, but the temperature isn’t below freezing.” Innes responds, fiddling with his phone.

After they’d finished eating, Tiki had insisted he come over to help with their homework. He had time to spare, because exactly _one_ person had come in that day and it was only to ask for directions to _Renais_.

It was a good thing L’Arachel happened to be out at the moment. He could already picture the firestorm that would have resulted from her presence.

“I can’t wait for winter! It’s my favorite. What’s your favorite, Myrrh?” Tiki asks.

“I like summer.”

“Summer is great. It’s nice and warm so you get to go to the beach or the pool and have shaved ice. Didja know? My Mummy makes homemade shaved ice,” Tiki proudly tells her friend. “It’s delicious and way better than the kind they sell at the store. In Archanea we eat it all the time, even when it’s not summer.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had any.”

“We can have some in the summer. And we can go to the beach and pool together too.”

“Okay!” Myrrh’s eyes light up at the prospect of keeping a promise with a friend. “Let’s do it!”

Tiki giggles.

“Yeah!”

Innes observes the pair from the corner of his eye, expression softening. The aura both girls seemed to carry was innocence embodied. A saccharine sweetness unparalleled. A welcome breath of fresh air compared to the cynicism of adulthood.

“Hey, there’s someone coming,” Marisa suddenly says from her place near the door. “Y’think they want directions, too?”

“Please god _anything_ ,” Joshua groans from the bar. “I’m so bored, I’d be willing to read them the whole damn phonebook if they asked.”

“Can you not use profane language while there are children here?” Innes requests. “Please and thank you.”

“Fudge off, Innes.”

“You too, Joshua.”

“He looks kinda…mad? Is he here to fight? Should I knock him out?” Marisa questions, cracking her knuckles. “He doesn’t look tough at all.”

“That’s asking for a lawsuit,” Gerik says, walking up behind her. “I don’t think even L’Arachel could rescue us from that. Maybe he’s just hungry. That’s probably what I look like when I am.”

The door slams over, the bells announcing a customer’s entrance rattling obnoxiously. Innes frowns, getting up for a better look. Whoever just entered had horrible manners if they thought barging in so aggressively was acceptable.

“Hello sir,” Marisa greets blandly. “Table for one? Or would you like directions? If you want directions, just go across the street. The place you’re looking for is there. Probably.”

“…What?” The voice is eerily familiar to Innes. “No, I don’t want directions. I’m looking for my daughter.”

“Your daughter?” Marisa tilts her head. “We haven’t had anyone come here. Unless your daughter is an old, bald dude looking for a restaurant that isn’t us.”

“I was told she’s here and I’m not leaving until I see her.”

“What are you going on about?” Innes finally decides to intervene. “You’re causing a disturbance.”

“Innes?” Ephraim looks relieved for some reason. “Nice to see you. Hey, can you help me out here? I’m looking for my kid. Apparently Eirika left her with some guy I don’t even know just because she’s one of our employee’s brother. How dumb is that? I don’t know if he’s some weirdo creep or anything since I’ve never met him!”

“Which employee was this?”

“I’m not about to reveal that. I respect people’s privacy and right to anonymity,” Ephraim frowns. “Look, just tell me, have you seen a girl about this tall, violet hair, big adorable red eyes? Probably the cutest angel you’ve ever seen?”

“That sounds like Myrrh,” Marisa comments idly. “I can’t believe she has a look alike.”

“Um, Dad…” All eyes land on the topic of discussion, the little girl sighing as she walks up to her parent. “I’m all right. Please calm down.”

“Your father is Ephraim,” Innes facepalms. Dramatic irony was amazing. “All right. _Okay._ ”

“Wait, _what_?” Tiki quickly follows, eyes as wide as saucers. “Then Nessy’s greatest rival, the one I asked you about, is _your Daddy?_ ”

“Mhm,” Myrrh confirms. “That’s why I was laughing.”

“This is like a movie!” Tiki exclaims. “Can you believe this, Nessy?”

“Is she talking to you?” Ephraim asks incredulously. “ _Nessy_? Is _that_ what they call you here?”

“Hey, don’t come into this house and insult our Nessy,” Joshua calls out. “Yo, is this the guy who got your oven warmed up for Fall Fest?” He winks provocatively, earning himself an intense glare from Innes.

“ _Shut up_ , unrelated party.”

“Let’s all calm down here,” Gerik, ever the peace maker, insists. “You’re looking for Myrrh, who’s your daughter. Here she is, so feel free to take her back.”

“That about covers it.” Ephraim replies. “Thank god. I was freaking out when Eirika told me she dropped you off here.”

“You’re so dramatic Dad,” Myrrh huffs. “I had a wonderful time here with everyone. They were super nice and made me feel welcomed. Mr. Innes also made me a delicious meal to share with Tiki.”

“That so?” Ephraim sheepishly scratches his cheek. “Guess I worried for no reason. Sorry for barging in here like that. I’m Ephraim by the way.”

“Marisa.”

“Gerik.”

“Joshua.”

“Tiki!”

“You’re Tiki, huh?” Ephraim crouches so they are at eye-level. “Thanks for looking out for my little girl. I appreciate it.”

“Thanks for letting me be friends with her. She’s the best!”

“Right?”

“This is embarrassing…” Myrrh mumbles, covering her face with her hands.

“You’re Mr. Fated Rival, aren’t ya?” Tiki scrutinizes him. “Did you know Nessy’s gonna kick your butt? Because he totally is.”

“ _He wishes_. Sorry, but I’m gonna kick _his_ butt.”

“No you won’t.”

“Yes I will.”

“Nu-uh. You can’t.”

“I can and I will.”

“Noooope!”

“You sure are confident there, shorty.”

“You are too, Mr. Myrrh’s Dad.”

“Okay, let’s cut this short,” Innes interrupts their childish back and forth. “Was this all you needed?”

“Well that and it’s a good excuse to see you.”

“To see me?” Innes furrows his brows. “Why would that be good?”

“We haven’t seen each other in a while. Just wanted to check up on the guy who’s gonna eat my dust. Or I guess my dish in this case.”

“Did he just…” Marisa’s mouth forms an ‘o’ shape as she looks to Gerik and Joshua. “He did didn’t he…?”

Gerik whistles.

“You gonna take that, Innes?”

“My ga— _radar_ is going off the charts right now,” Joshua chokes on a laugh. “Oh my god.”

“Dad!” Myrrh pinches her father’s arm. “That’s rude! Mr. Innes was so nice to me and this is how you treat him? I’m telling Grandad!”

“It’s quite all right, Myrrh,” Innes replies. “Unfortunately for your father, I’m not easily provoked.”

“That is such a lie.”

“Shut your filthy mouth, Joshua. As I was saying, I don’t care for his words because I understand that it’s in the kitchen where we’ll decide who’s superior. I’ve been honing my skills.”

“So have I. Don’t disappoint me.”

“You two sound so cool!” Tiki squeals, grabbing Innes’s arm and pulling it to and fro. “Food War accepted! Isn’t this exciting, Myrrh?”

“I think it’s a little silly.”

“I agree with you kid,” Gerik sighs, leaving the general vicinity. “Nice meeting you, Ephraim. You should probably get back to work, though.”

“Good idea. Get your stuff, Myrrh. Dad’s gonna show you how awesome he is.”

“All right.” She does as she’s told, Tiki following behind to help her pack.

“Thanks for looking after her,” Ephraim says to Innes. “I appreciate it.”

“Oh. You’re welcome,” Innes shrugs. “She and Tiki get along well. They’re so lively together.”

“Is she? That’s a relief…Can I ask you something?”

“Should I leave?” Marisa points to herself. “I’m leaving.”

“Sure. Nice meeting you,” Ephraim accepts her lazy handshake and she saunters off, disappearing into the kitchens. “I _would_ say you’ve got some real oddballs working here, but we’re no better. I think Eirika wants to strangle us half of the time.”

“I’m positive you give her plenty reason to.”

“Not going to deny that,” Ephraim laughs. “But, uh, since our kids are getting along so well, could I maybe get your number? Myrrh’s had a rough time making friends for the most part and we’re sorta new here. Shorty over there seems perfect for getting her to speak up more and I wouldn’t mind them hanging out whenever they can. Kids have playdates sometimes right?”

“When they’re _babies_. At their age, it’s usually considered ‘hanging out with friends’.”

“It’s the same concept. I mean, do you think it’s a good idea? I thought it was…” Ephraim unsure tone surprises Innes. Rather than asking him for permission, it comes across as though he’s asking for _advice._

“I don’t think it’s a bad idea, _”_ Innes pulls out his cellphone, unlocking it. “We can discuss whenever it comes up.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Unless you’ve changed your mind within the last few seconds.” It would be good for Tiki to have someone her age she could spend more time with. While she insisted that polishing up on her verbal sparring with him was fun, Innes knew having someone from school who could understand her worries a lot better than he could would be far more beneficial.

“No, I—Thanks.”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

“I guess not,” Ephraim takes his phone out. “But I still appreciate it.”

They exchange contact information. Innes raises an eyebrow at Ephraim’s choice of emoticons for his entry.

“You like? It’s a motorcycle, because I have one.”

“And the gold medal?”

“I’m number one,” Ephraim explains as if it’s obvious, not looking up from his screen. “Here, I’ll give you the silver number two medal so we can match,” He waves the device in front of Innes’s face, his smile devious. “Nice, huh?”

“ _I cannot believe you."_

“I’m ready, Dad,” Myrrh finally returns. “Let’s go.”

“There you are, princess,” Ephraim smoothly takes her hand. “Thanks for all your help. We’ll see each other whenever. See ya, Shorty.”

“Bye-bye!”

“Thank you for having me,” Myrrh shyly replies. “Goodbye.”

The father-daughter pair finally leave, Ephraim whistling contentedly while Myrrh skips beside him.

“Whattsa matter?” Tiki asks, noticing his grimace. “Is it the grump monster again?”

“No,” Innes quickly sets to erasing Ephraim’s additions to his contact. “I’ve just realized that I need to take out the trash.”

“Oh. That sucks.”

The gold medal is quickly replaced with a garbage can. Innes doesn't regret it at all.

“I’m back!” L’Arachel arrives no sooner than Ephraim leaves, carrying boxes of take out. “What’d I miss?”

“Innes has a boyfriend.”

“ _Shut up, Joshua!_ ”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because Ephraim is trash and Innes cannot deal. Disgusting.
> 
> Jokes aside, Tiki and Myrrh finally interact on screen! They're such cuties together! Can't wait to write about the misadventures in babysitting and parenting, a novel by Innes and Ephraim.
> 
> We finally edge closer to an epic showdown! Who will win? Who will be salty? When will Innes and Ephraim realize how unnecessarily flirtatious their banter comes across?  
> Tune in next time!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	5. Throwdown! with Rausten and Renais

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fall Fest arrives. Everyone is a little done with it.

“Did we bring everything? Maybe we should check again.”

“L’Arachel, we’ve gone through our equipment _at least_ seven times. I think we’re fine.”

“I know, I know. You’re right,” She sighs, wringing her wrists. It’s the most nervous Innes has seen her in a while. “I have pre-game jitters. It’s been so long since I’ve cooked in front of this many people.”

“I thought you loved putting on a performance?” Innes asks, raising an eyebrow. “You’re in your element today.”

“You’re not wrong. I just—We’ve been practicing together and I’ve done my best to make up for all the time I’ve relegated to our operations and management, but I still don’t feel quite up to par,” She touches the brooch pinning together the lavender neckerchief wrapped around the collar of her uniform, the accessory polished to a brilliant shine. “Uncle says I’ve nothing to worry about. That I’ve been doing a stellar job and have much to be proud of. I understand that but…isn’t it a bit ironic that the sole reason I took charge is what I do the least?”

“That’s…” Innes doesn’t know exactly how to respond because it _is_ true. At the beginning there was just them so L’Arachel _had to_ cook while juggling everything else. As everyone else joined, there was less of a need for that, leaving their boss with more than enough manpower to keep their ship sailing smoothly. “Would you like to?”

“Huh?”

“I wouldn’t mind taking charge when you feel like stretching your wings a bit,” Innes says. “The only reason I don’t is because you’re always insistent on nobody messing up your system.”

“They’ll ruin it, that’s why.”

“Do you trust me not to?”

“I…” She hesitates, biting her lip. “It’s not that. It’s—Doing things myself is much easier. I can control the outcome better that way.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Can you repeat the question?”

“Do you trust me _not to_?”

“…Of course I trust you, Innes. I trust you more than I trust myself sometimes, if I’m being completely honest,” She begrudgingly admits. “You inspire that in others, even if you don’t realize it.”

“I don’t know about that,” He thought it was the complete opposite. “A weight is best carried between two, or so I’ve been told. Feel free to order me to do your clerical work. I assure you I won’t quit. I doubt there’s anyone in this world who could handle standing as your equal.”

“And I doubt there’s anyone in this world who wouldn’t fire you for your insolence. Really, what a way to speak with your superior,” L’Arachel smiles despite her words. Innes can rest easy as long as she remains confident in herself. “I’ll make an effort to bestow upon you duties worthy of a faithful servant. Worry not.”

“Excuse me,” A member of the staff opens the door to the waiting room. “We’re about to begin. Please proceed to the event stage.”

“Here we go,” L’Arachel takes a deep breath. “It’s now or never. Let’s give it all we’ve got. I, L’Arachel, strike in the name of righteousness, order, and Rausten!” She turns to Innes, holding out her fist. “May the chips fall where we will them to!”

“We are in no way inferior to any competitor here,” Innes returns the gesture and the two initiate a radical fist bump. “Don’t let your guard down.”

“Right!”

 

* * *

 

“Wow, there’s a lot of people here,” Tiki notes, bouncing in her seat. “I didn’t expect it to be so full.”

“I still don’t get it,” Marisa yawns. “I hope someone does that thing where the food catches fire in the pan or something. That’s exciting.”

“That’s called flambé,” Tiki explains matter of factly. “My friend taught me that. It’s when they put liquor on food and set it on fire. It’s supposed to keep the flavors but burn the alcohol, I think.”

“Whoa,” Marisa nods, staring at her with awe. “That’s rad.”

“It is! I asked Nessy to do it but he got mad and told me fire was dangerous.”

“Let’s hope we get some flambé action,” Gerik mutters to Joshua. “Think they can share the booze from that afterwards? Those two lose and we’ll be in for a _long_ night.”

“Y’think they’ll be sore about it?”

“ _Joshua_ ,” Gerik’s gives him a flat look. “Is that even in question?”

“You’re right, I take it back.”

“Won’t it be hard to give stuff to everyone here?” Tiki asks, looking around at the audience. “I hope they have enough food for everyone.”

“We’re not getting anything kiddo,” Gerik laughs at her shocked expression. “The judges will, but we’re just here to watch.”

“Wha…! That’s not fair! I thought I would get to try some of Nessy’s…”

“Don’t you eat his cooking every day?” Joshua asks, amused. “What’s the difference?”

“That’s only for now. When Mummy and Daddy come back, he won’t do that anymore. I wanna try everything he makes now that I have the chance…”

“You can always tell him to come over more,” Joshua suggests. “I doubt he could say no to you.”

“But I want him to say yes because he wants to, not because he doesn’t wanna make me feel bad,” Tiki replies, fiddling with the edges of her coat. “I don’t want him to think I’m annoying…” Her smile is resigned. “It’s okay, even if it’s only for a little while more.”

“That’s so sad,” Marisa comments. “Innes is a jerk. I should kick his ass for making you think that.”

“That’s not very nice.”

“He doesn’t think you’re annoying,” Gerik responds, patting her head. “If you explain it to him, I’m sure he’ll be happy to drop by some more. Maybe ask your folks to talk to him about it.”

“No!” Tiki shakes her head. “I wanna be the one to say it! I wanna look Nessy in the eyes and say—and say—!”

“ _Make me food or I’ll hate you forever big brother!_ ” Joshua says in his own imitation of her voice. “That’s what I’d say. A good old dose of emotional manipulation.”

“That’s horrible! You’re terrible, Jo-Jo!” Tiki frowns. “I could never say that to him!”

“Can you not give the kid bad ideas?” Gerik leans over to punch his arm. “Everything’ll be all right, Tiki. Make sure you tell him whatever it is you think you need to and he’ll respond in kind.’’

“I’ll do my best!”

“And I’ll do my best to recover from this injury,” Joshua winces, rubbing his arm. “Geez, Gerik, don’t hold back?”

“I can punch the other side so it’s balanced by comparison,” Marisa offers, raising her fist. “C’mere.”

“No thanks.”

“Wah! They turned the lights off!” Tiki shrieks when the stadium suddenly goes dark. “What’s happening?”

“Looks like they’re finally starting,” Gerik says as they watch the competitors slowly file onto the cooking stage. “Those two look like such nerds, I can’t even believe it.” Innes and L’Arachel enter alongside the other pairs. Despite the fact that they’re being watched by the entire arena, both still find it in them to bicker, clearly whispering jabs at one another the whole way in.

“She convinced him into wearing the neckerchief. The mad woman,” Joshua laughs. “They’re so cute, it’s nauseating.”

“I think it’s nice,” Marisa leans forward to get a better look. “We should all wear one in solidarity with fashion and style.”

“Since when did you care about fashion?”

“Since right now because neckerchiefs are _way_ cool. Right Tiki?”

“They’re all right,” Tiki replies, pensive. “I like scarves better.”

“Scarves are okay,” Marisa says. “I don’t like them too much because they’re annoying to put on. I can never get them to look nice.”

“Ladies and gentleman!” The MC of the event finally begins the introductions. “Welcome to yet another esoteric and considered unmarketable on most other continents edition of—“ He doesn’t even need to finish his sentence because the audience does it for him. “—THROWDOWN _WITH_ MAGVEL!”

“Yay!” Tiki cheers along with the rest of the crowd. “Throwdown!”

“These ten pairs of talented chefs will be showcasing their culinary talents, clawing their way to the top by any means necessary to prove they’re the best in the business! We know! It sounds awesome right? I’m not bitter! Even if my partner Frank ran off with the trophy and hasn’t spoken to me since! I’m an MC now! This is great! Watching others parade around what should be mine is amazing!” The MC chokes on a sob, his smile holding strong. “These tears are of joy not resentment! Now let’s introduce our competitors!” The introductions vary from relatively normal to quirky beyond belief.

“And here we have Renais! Tell us who you are and what you’re about.”

“W-Well I’m Eirika and I hope that we can all have a fair competition. Everyone here is so talented. It’s an honor to be surrounded by people I can learn from.”

“Aw, what a sweetheart! Let’s hope you don’t get eaten alive by these absolute animals surrounding you! And how about you, sir, what’s your deal?”

“I’m Ephraim!” He grabs the mic, putting on his most charming smile. “And I’ll be taking home the win!” The crowd gasps, whistling and roaring out cheers for his assertive declaration. “Get ready for a new champion to be crowned, because Renais ain’t giving the title up to anybody!”

“What a claim!” The MC exclaims. “You’re the new kids on the block aren’t you? Not worried those words might come back to bite you?”

“Of course not! We’re here to prove something after all.”

“To anybody in particular?”

“Well…” Ephraim's quick glance through the audience goes unnoticed. When he looks back at his competitors, his eyes meet Innes's. He offers him a cocky smirk. “I guess you can say that.”

“ _I guess you can say that,”_ Innes mimics in a shrill tone, scowling. _“_ Gross. What a hack _.”_

“Save that fire for the actual cooking.” L’Arachel murmurs.

“And finally, we have Rausten. You know the drill. Tell us what in the goddess’s name you’re doing here!”

“Lovely you should ask! My name is L’Arachel, inheritor of greatness and nobility!”

“A familiar face! We’ve heard this spiel before!”

“Did I ask to be interrupted?” L’Arachel asks with a vicious smile. “I didn’t! Allow me to continue!”

“Y-Yes of course…”

“Where was I? Oh, yes, we intend on reclaiming victory! Though the battle may be fierce, we do not intend on emerging defeated! We will win! And we’ll count on the support of our adoring public to do so!” The audience waves their pamphlets enthusiastically, rallying to her cause. “You may move on to my partner.”

“Th-Thank you,” The MC clears his throat, vigor restored. “And finally you, young man. Name and—you know the drill.”

“I’m Innes.”

“…”

“…”

“…Anything else?”

“Not really.”

“Nessy is so cool!” Tiki lets out a high-pitched squeal. “Have anything to say? _Not really. There’s no need for words. Not anymore,_ ” She embellishes his statement in a low-voice. “He’s the coolest!”

“ _Not really_? What is he saying?” Joshua scoffs. “He sure had a lot to say when I was driving him here. Wouldn’t stop talking, in fact. Might as well do a little hair flip too, the damn poser.”

“Hey, give him a break. He needs to keep up his appearance as our resident ice queen,” Gerik defends. “Let him lie to the public so we can flame him about it later.”

“All right then! Everyone, to your battle stations!” The MC cries out. “Let’s get ready to—“

“ _THROWDOWN!_ ”

 

* * *

 

“Innes! Is that fish done?”

“Not yet.”

“What? What do you mean it’s _not done_?”

“Exactly what I just said. It’s _not done_.”

“When exactly do you expect to plate it?”

“When I’m finished _cooking it_.”

“I expected it to be done three minutes ago!” L’Arachel exclaims, her concentration not broken from preparing their dishes in the slightest. “Finish it up!”

“I’ll finish it when I’m done! Do you plan on serving _raw fish?_ Have it sing a song about how _amazing life under the sea is to the judges_?”

 _“You’ll_ be singing about life _ten feet under_ if I don’t see those fillets on these plates in _five seconds!_ ”

“Drama between teammates!” The MC announces, stopping by their workplace. “Tell me, is this what the work environment is always like at Rausten?”

“Oh heavens no!” L’Arachel replies with a charming smile. “This is meant to motivate my troops! You see, when we scream at each other, it actually improves our productivity ten fold!”

“That sounds fake!”

“Did I ask for your opinion? Maybe this is why Frank ran off with everything!”

“….Y-You’re…You’re _right!_ ” The MC sobs, collapsing onto their counter. Innes carefully pushes him aside and he slips to the floor.“I was always criticizing him! I never once told him h-how proud I was o-or…or how much I loved his apple crumble or e-even how I truly felt!”

“Acceptance is the first step to healing! But right now you need to market us, so please do that!” L’Arachel winks at the camera. “Every Wednesday, refills are free and prices are twenty-five percent off!”

“She’s a natural,” Innes hears Ephraim say to him, in the middle of chopping up herbs. “I’m assuming they don’t leave the advertising to you?”

“That’s not my job,” Innes retorts, eyeing his skillet nervously. “It’s not necessary for me.”

“…I feel like that’s done.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion,” Innes growls, anxiously biting his lip. It would be so easy to mess this up and ruin their entire dish. “It’s not.”

“It is. Anymore and it’ll burn.”

“No it won’t. We need the charr.”

“I’m telling you it’s gonna be overdone. Unless you plan on serving rocks?”

“Can you stop talking to me and focus on your own things? Please and thank you.”

“Whoa there, prince of prickliness. It’s just a friendly piece of advice.”

“I don’t need it, unnecessary interloper.”

“Dude, that’s gonna burn. Take it off the pan.”

“If you insist on telling me that, then I insist on telling you that you’re chopping _nothing._ ”

“Huh?” Ephraim looks down, only now realizing he’d been chopping absently at the cutting board. “Ah, snap. I mean, at least it’s not gonna burn like your fish.”

“Are you trying to pick a fight with me?”

“I’m _trying_ to be _nice_.”

“Save that for when you’re groveling before my feet!” Innes quickly shuts the stove off, rushing to plate their main component. “It’s done L’Arachel!”

“Finally! That took you ages!”

“Don’t start.”

“More like finish! We’re almost out of time!”

“Lively conversation between competitors!” The MC startles the both of them, reporting to the audience with no traces of tears. “The aromas filling this stadium are absolutely mouthwatering! Selecting who will continue onto the semi-finals and championship rounds will be one tough decision by the looks of it!”

“Tough? Hah!” L’Arachel guffaws. “This is child’s play. Behold!” L’Arachel flourishes her Mezzaluna dangerously close to where Innes is adjusting their presentation. “Huzzah! Watch a master at work!”

“Stop swinging that around!” Innes yells, barely ducking her next swing. “Do you want to hurt me? Or worse, unintentionally cut my hair?”

“Would losing your hair really be that lamentable?”

“ _Don’t come at me about my hair!_ ”

“Arguing!” The MC announces. “Reminds me of Frank! I used to love doing that with you, even if I denied it! I was shy! Thirty minutes on the clock, teams! Will they make it? Stay tuned!”

 

* * *

 

“And those moving on to the final round are—!”

“I’m so nervous!” Tiki covers her eyes, peeking through the slits between her fingers. “Nessy can’t lose! I’ll cry! I’ll cry so much if he loses! He’s worked so hard!”

“I can’t believe we just sat through three hours of cooking. We’re not even done yet and we didn’t get to try any,” Marisa groans, gripping her stomach. “I’m never coming to one of these again. Can we stop by a burger joint after this? _Please?_ ”

“Yeah, I could go for a milkshake,” Joshua agrees. “Want a kids meal, kid?”

“How can you talk about food when Nessy is getting judged on _his_ food?” Tiki buries her face into Gerik’s chest, distraught. “…I-If we’re going, can I get chicken nuggets? A-And a smoothie?”

“Sure thing,” Gerik rubs her back soothingly. “You deserve it after this emotional rollercoaster. Wasn’t it great when your brother almost set his clothes on fire?”

“Or when L’Arachel tossed a pan halfway across the room during the second round and nailed the stove he was working on? And broke it?” Joshua adds.

“Or when his blender wouldn’t turn off and it burst open so he had to go change?” Marisa says.

“Nessy’s had very bad luck today,” Tiki notes, frowning. “I should have made him a good luck charm.”

“Seems more like an average day for him,” Gerik shrugs. “Maybe they’ll take it into consideration.”

“He wouldn’t appreciate that,” Joshua says. “He’ll be all ‘ _I don’t need pity! Judge me without mercy!’_ Dude’s arm could be broken and he’d still be whining about how it didn’t hamper him one bit.”

“Nessy’s stubborn. That’s what Daddy always says. Just like Tana and my Mummy.”

“Where is Tana anyway?” Gerik asks.

“She had to work on a project with people from school,” Tiki explains. “She’s busy.”

“Poor kid.”

“She told me to cheer enough for the both of us, but I think if I do I’ll lose my voice…”

“RENAIS AND RAUSTEN ARE MOVING ON TO THE FINAL ROUND!”

“…!”

Tiki opens her mouth and proceeds to screech.

 

* * *

 

This was it.

The final bout.

The judges were discussing amongst themselves, leaving the entire stadium in suspense. Innes can say with confidence both he and L’Arachel had done all they could. They managed to knock out eight other pairs of competitors. Now all that was left was—

“Can I just say,” Ephraim begins from beside him as they await the final decision. “That even if we win, you probably deserve a trophy for sheer perseverance in the face of adversity. You are like a _magnet_ for inconvenience. Is this how you live your life?”

“Lucky for you this was one of my better days,” Innes responds haughtily. “Inconvenience is nothing in the face of adaptability.”

“Clearly. If I’m being honest, I thought you were gonna give up the moment your sleeve caught fire. Glad to see you’re not the kind of guy to take off running at the first sign of trouble.”

“I’m no coward.”

“Didn’t think you were,” Ephraim mutters. “Hey, did you get that thing I sent? It reminded me of you.”

“And how exactly does a jpeg image of an angry feline resemble me in the slightest?”

“You don’t see it?”

“ _No._ And you’re not the first to suggest so either.”

Ephraim seems put out by that information.

“Really? I thought I was being clever and original.”

“If you were, I might have responded.”

“Ouch. You’ve got claws all right. Next time I’ll send you a pic of a cat that _doesn’t_ looked pissed off. Would that be better?”

“Hardly.”

“What are you speaking about?” L’Arachel butts into their hushed conversation. “Stop sweet talking my employee. He won’t give you the trophy no matter how much you beg.”

“How do you know he wasn’t asking _me_ for it?”

“Hah! Lies. As if Innes would ever politely ask for anything.”

“That’s very rich coming from you.” Innes says.

“Don’t call me rude! I’m very well-mannered! I’ve taken extensive courses in etiquette and conversation holding. I’m an _aristocrat_.”

“Same. Right, Eirika?” Ephraim says to his sister.

“What?” Eirika frowns. “ _I_ did. _You_ never showed up. It was always me and Lyon.”

“Oh yeah.”

“…Wait, why would you need to take etiquette lessons?” Innes blurts out. He doesn’t know why he bothers asking, but his mouth is moving before he can stop himself.

“My old man thought it would be a good idea,” Ephraim responds, shrugging. “Wasn’t necessary since it didn’t work out in the end anyway.”

His response appears casual enough, but by the way his jaw clenches, Innes deduces it isn’t a subject Ephraim is willing to elaborate on.

“We’re ready to reveal our decision,” The head judge announces. “The winner of our annual Autumn Ensemble, affectionately known as—“

“FALL FEST!” The stadium screams.

“Y-Yes, Fall Fest. The winner who will take it all home _is…”_

_…_

_…_

_“RENAIS!”_

The crowd goes wild, their cheers drowning out any other audible noise.

Innes is once again reacquainted with the sting of loss.

It had been quite a while, but the sensation was as frustrating as always.

“You have our congratulations,” L’Arachel speaks, not looking the least bit frazzled by the outcome. “It was a good battle.”

“Thank you,” Eirika smiles. “It was an honor to go up against such formidable rivals.”

“I’m not sure about this,” Ephraim frowns, turning to face Innes. “I mean, your stove was destroyed and you had to go change so that must have had some effect and—This doesn’t count.”

“Oh please, don’t make me laugh,” Innes scoffs. “Go acknowledge your win.”

“But—“

“I don’t appreciate you invalidating my work. I told you inconvenience means nothing to me, didn’t I? You should be honored, winning against someone with my caliber of talent,” Innes turns away. He isn’t bitter, but the loss is still humiliating, especially after all his talk of soundly defeating Ephraim. “Go get your prize before you embarrass yourself.”

“W-Wait! Uh, this is seasonal, right? You better come for me next season! I’ll still trash you but it’ll be fun!”

“Unfortunately, that’s not happening—”

“ _What?_ And after all that talk about not being a coward? I can’t believe—“

“ _Would you let me finish?_ ” Innes scowls. “We follow a rotation. Seeing as we negotiated this, I won’t be returning until the following Autumn competition.”

“Oh,” Ephraim replies dumbly. “That’s lame. When else can I compete against you, then?”

“It’s not as if this is the last time we’ll ever see one another.”

“Is that your roundabout way of saying you’d like me to keep sending you cat pictures?”

“ _Goodbye_ , Ephraim.”

Innes and L’Arachel both leave the stage, standing as proudly as the moment they entered.

There was nothing more to be done. They both put their all into their performance. As such, there was nothing to regret.

“…I’m sorry,” L’Arachel mumbles when they’re walking through the silent backstage hallways. “This is my fault.”

“What are you going on about now?” Innes replies, staring straight ahead.

“I ruined everything. With my actions, allowing my skills to rust away, ‘ _not taking things seriously_ ’.” She uses air quotes for the last one. “People always tell me that. Maybe they’re right. And you were so excited about winning this one, too…”

Innes isn’t good at comfort. In fact, he’s the _last_ person most would turn to for such a thing. But he hasn’t spent the last decade of his life existing alongside L’Arachel and not paying attention to who she is and what she’s capable of.

“…If this is your fault, then half of the blame is shared with me.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Our appetizer was over-salted on account of me fumbling with measurements, our main course over cooked because I wasted too much time contemplating how exactly to pull the flavors together. Our dessert was abysmal and, quite honestly, I’m embarrassed to have my name associated with it after what I did to ruin your Soufflé recipe.”

“But I also—“

“In case you aren’t aware,” Innes cuts her off. “We fail _together_. Don’t say you ruined everything or that you’re incapable because that burden _does not_ rest solely on your shoulders. If you’re a failure, that would mean _I_ am, and we both know that’s impossible.”

“Such arrogance. Your way of comforting me is as garbage as always.”

“If I did otherwise, it would be insincere.”

“Yeah,” L’Arachel sniffles, smiling weakly. “It would be weird if you were suddenly excessively compassionate and had remotely any kind of emotional intelligence.”

“Yes.”

“I guess you’re right,” She sighs, wiping her eyes. “I wanted to win, but all this means is that next time we have to be better. I’ll improve.”

“I assume so.”

“I expect the same of you. I noticed all those things you mentioned but didn’t say anything to spare your feelings.”

“What a compassionate liege I have,” Innes remarks sarcastically. “Anything else?”

“Can we get something to eat after this? Preferably greasy? I’m so hungry…”

“I was thinking the same.”

 

* * *

 

 _“Nessssyyyyy,_ ” Tiki sobs, tears streaming down her cheeks as they approach the lobby. “ _I’m sorryyyyyy!_ ”

“Oh, no, not this again.” Innes groans, stopping in front of her. “Why are _you_ crying?”

“ _Y-Y-You l-l-lo-lost!_ ” His youngest sister snivels. “You d-d-didn’t win!”

“I’m aware.”

“Stop being snarky,” Gerik scolds him. “She was at the edge of her seat the entire time. Kept chanting your name.”

“Is that why your voice is so hoarse?” Innes asks, crouching down so they are at eye-level. “…Thank you. I didn’t win but I appreciate your support all the same.”

“I-I wanted to tell you congratulations. I w-w-wanted to say you d-d-did a good job a-a-and that I knew y-you would win…”

“You can still do that. I may not have brought back the trophy but I suppose the experience will have to do.”

“That’s not a t-trophy.”

“Materialism is overrated.”

“What’s that?”

“It means Innes had fun so a trophy doesn’t matter,” Joshua translates. “It also means he and L’Arachel are treating us to dinner. Ain’t that right?”

“I beg of you, _please_ ,” Marisa pleads with them. “I’m _starving._ ”

“You are not,” L’Arachel huffs. “But I suppose we can all go for a well-deserved meal. Come along, everyone! It’s on me and my beloved partner!”

Innes frowns.

“You never asked me.” 

“It wasn’t a question. We’ll split the bill.”

“ _Fine_.”

“Yay for ‘feeling sorry for ourselves’ chicken nuggets and fries!” Tiki cheers.

 

* * *

 

“Good job, Dad! You did very well—Eep!” Myrrh yelps when Ephraim scoops her up into his arms, nuzzling her cheek.

“I did, didn’t I?” Ephraim grins, showing off the trophy in his hands. It’s a depiction of a chef holding a spatula in one hand and a skillet in another. He would have chosen something a bit more flashy, but it was a still a nice reward. “I dedicate this win to you, sweetpea.”

“Where are you going to put it?”

“On the mantel above the fireplace.”

“ _No,_ we’re going to put it in the restaurant,” Eirika quickly corrects him. “Somewhere visible where people can see it. That way we can say we’re award winning.”

“Crafty,” Morva chimes in, a rare smile stretching across his lips. “I doubt it’s necessary to go that far.”

“Anything for business,” Eirika responds. “I think we made a real impression today. I don’t want to put it to waste.”

“I’m sure Fado would be pleased to hear you speak that way.”

“That old man is too busy counting his bills to care.”

“ _Ephraim,_ ” Eirika’s tone is tight. “Why don’t you two go on ahead? I wanted to speak with a few of the coordinators for a moment.”

“And I’ll be in the way, I get it,” Ephraim clicks his tongue, walking away. “C’mon princess. You hungry? Let’s get something exotic.”

“C-Can we get something Archanean?” Myrrh asks as he sets her back down, grabbing his hand. "I've been wanting to try it."

“Sure!”

They disappear beyond the crowd, leaving both Eirika and Morva to sigh at their retreating backs.

“I was hoping he’d be a bit less resentful,” Eirika says. “I guess Father is equally at fault, not showing up even when he said he would. I understand business is business but...”

“ I agree. There are some wounds that take time to heal. I suppose Ephraim is at the point where he hasn’t even acknowledged he has one in the first place,” Morva responds, the sorrow evident in his voice. “Those two…they don’t seem to be getting any closer to understanding one another.”

“So stubborn,” Eirika shakes her head. “But there’s no use dwelling on it now.”

"Yes. They need to figure it out on their own."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm...What's the deal with Ephraim and his Pops?  
> We'll get to it soon! (Which is what I always say but we will! I promise!)
> 
> Also, Innes doesn't actually have bad luck. He just works with overzealous people and has learned the ways of avoiding disaster because of it.
> 
> And to whom it may concern:  
> Mr. MC and Frank were reunited shortly after the airing of this episode. MC was able to say everything he'd kept bottled up, Frank admitted he'd also been wrong in how he acted, and the two were married years later.  
> Happy ending~
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	6. Conversational Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief interlude with Innes and others.

The aftermath of Fall Fest brings about a boom in business.

While Innes cannot say he’s no longer sore from the loss, work keeps him busy enough not to dwell on it. Putting all his energy into his profession reminds him that winning isn’t everything. That his _passions_ are the reason he’s a chef, not recognition or glory. It would have been nice to bring the trophy home for Rausten’s sake, but they have to place their hopes on the future. While the win would have been nice to satiate his competitive side, there was nothing to be done about it now.

He’d improve, gradually, and do better next time.

At the moment, however, Innes had an entirely different mission to accomplish in the name of his ever benevolent employer. One that required a completely different set of skills and one Innes wasn’t entirely sure he was capable of pulling off.

_Negotiation._

“Wow, you look great! Very sharp. But I’d have to advise you against going to work like that. Wouldn’t want to get that nice suit dirty,” Tana says from the sofa as he walks about the apartment, preparing for the day. “What’s the special occasion?”

“I have to attend a meeting.”

“A meeting?” Tana’s brows furrow in confusion. “Since when do you go to meetings?”

“Since L’Arachel decided she wants to be more involved in the kitchen. I made the suggestion myself but now that I think about it, she’s more approachable than I am. It only makes sense she’s better at this,” Innes responds, giving the watch on his wrist one last shine. It wasn’t anything expensive, but it gave the impression of his non-existent wealth. “She told me not to ruin any of her ‘ _fragile and delicately_ ’ formed connections.”

“Rest in pieces.”

“You’re being very helpful, Tana.”

“Well, who exactly are you meeting? Investors or something?”

“A distributor. Where we get our vegetables and fruit from,” Innes says. L’Arachel hadn’t been forthcoming on _who,_ only _where_ to meet them _,_ which lead him to believe she was probably having fun keeping useful information that would make this easier from him. The sadist. “She said to dress as professionally as I could.”

“I’d say you look the part,” Tana offers her opinion, eating another spoonful of her cereal. Innes doesn’t know how many times he’s told her to stop eating on the sofa but he’s sure that by the fiftieth, he’d given up all hope on her listening to him. “ _G’d jwab_.”

“Thank you. I should be back in time to pick Tiki up.”

“Mhm.”

“We have leftovers if you get hungry. Just heat them up. Don’t, and I repeat _don’t_ , touch the stove,” Tana flips him off. “Enjoy your day off.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t screw up and get yourself fired.”

“Improbable.”

“Watch your mouth.”

“Likely necessary.”

“Smile.”

“ _Impossible_.”

Locking the door behind him, Innes sets off for what would no doubt be a new experience to say the least.

 

* * *

 

 

“Soooo…how did it go?”

“ _How do you do this all the time?_ ” Innes asks into his cellphone. His throat hurt from all the back and forth, his head ached from the countless revisions to contracts, half way through he wanted to strangle somebody because the person in charge kept insisting he explain what exactly Rausten’s demands were despite the fact that they had spent _over an hour_ going over it.

_It was horrible._

L’Arachel laughs at his misery, clearly relishing in his realization that she does in fact deserve all the praise she lavishes upon herself. It wasn’t as if Innes was _unaware_ of her responsibilities. It was just easier to listen to her complain about it than it was to actually _do the work_ worth complaining about.

“I’m sure you did fine.”

“Oh, I did. I have some numbers to go over with you when I get back. The problem is that they kept offering me tea and I didn’t want to accidentally be rude so I kept drinking. _They kept refilling my cup_. _I’m not fine._ ”

“You could have said no.”

“Didn’t you tell me to never say no? To work around it?”

“Such an obedient employee. I’m proud. Did you use the rest of the tips I suggested?”

“ _No,_ ” Innes decided the moment he caught a glimpse of the list he would _not_ be using anything from it because they were _ridiculous_ and he would not be soiling his pristine reputation by even attempting _any_ them. “And I kindly ask you never suggest them _ever again_.”

Honestly, what did ‘ _give them the old pouty smile_ ’ even mean? Was it even possible to pout _and_ smile at the same time? Maybe there was something he was missing out on about inter-communication and L’Arachel was simply eons ahead of her time? It would explain why she was excellent at finding people to do things for her and fix problems that would otherwise be unsolvable.

“Well, we can discuss in detail when you get back,” There’s a strangled scream in background followed by loud crashing sounds. “…Actually, we’re busy at the moment. Don’t come back today. Come in early tomorrow.”

“Are you sure I don’t need to come in? Doesn’t being busy entail needing more help?”

There’s more yelling as the line goes static.

“No!” L’Arachel insists. “Everything’s fine! We’ve all had a lovely time bonding and reestablishing our ties as a unit. We’re completely okay!”

“ _Is that Innes_?” Joshua’s muffled voice comes though. “ _Tell him to come back—_ “

“Get back to your station!” L’Arachel demands as their kitchen is apparently thrown into more chaos. “We don’t need you today so come tomorrow! Okay, bye!” She hangs up.

Innes considers going back to work.

He’s tired, though.

Going home to take a nap seems like the better option.

With that in mind, he puts his cellphone away, preparing himself to board the approaching bus.

Thankfully it isn’t as crowded as it usually tends to be whenever Innes boards to get to work. Since it’s far past rush hour and still too early for the wave back home, only a few passengers are scattered among the seats, leaving him with quite a few options to choose from.

He sits near the middle with a sigh. The following stops see a few more people, one of which Innes isn’t expecting in the slightest.

“Yo. You look fresh.”

“Ephraim.”

Said man yawns, slumping into the seat across from Innes. He’s dressed down in what looks to be sportswear, lugging around a large gym bag.

“It’s freezing outside. Should have brought a coat,” He comments, rubbing his hands together. “I hate winter so much.”

“That sounds familiar.”

“Have I said that before? I probably have,” Ephraim groans, rubbing his arms to generate heat. “When is summer coming?”

“It wasn’t you, but I do recall your daughter saying she preferred the summer as well,” Innes responds, picking a piece of lint off his pants. Good thing he brought a lint roller. “Perhaps it’s an inherited preference.”

“Yeah, Myrrh hates the cold. She’s gotta be wearing four layers of clothing before she’s happy,” Ephraim says. “Maybe I should follow her example.”

“It’s hardly lower than the mid-twenties.” While Innes doesn’t think it’s warm either, by comparison, Archanea’s winters were far harsher. At least where his family was from.

“In my book, that’s freezing. Maybe you’ve got some natural affinity for frostiness,” Ephraim wonders. “It would explain a lot.”

“I’m not sure how I should take that.”

“Take it in a good way.”

“Whatever.”

“All right then,” Ephraim relents, his smile amused rather than frustrated by Innes’s response. “Can I ask why you’re so dressed up today?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not really, but I’m curious. Got a hot date? You didn't strike me as a playboy.”

“If by ‘hot date’ you mean I’m coming from a work appointment.” Innes replies blandly. “Why are _you_ here anyway? Don’t you have that obnoxious motorcycle of yours?”

“Hey, don’t knock my ride. It's cool as hell." Ephraim defends his vehicle. “First off, I’m picking up my kid. I don’t make it a habit to have her anywhere near it. Second, it broke down and I haven’t gotten the chance to get it looked at. I sorta got into an argument with my mechanic so I can’t really go to him right now.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Eh, it’s like you said. Adaptability, right?” Ephraim shrugs. “I’ve never been on a bus before today.”

“What?”

“I mean, a school bus yeah. The ones they charter for sports teams. But a public one? Never.”

“I see,” Innes decides there’s nothing all that strange about it. Plenty of people never rode on buses on account of having other modes of transports. It was hardly rare. “Congratulations on your mundane milestone.”

“Thanks. I even got to put my coins into that weird money box myself,” Ephraim replies cheekily. “The life of a commoner is fulfilling.”

“Quite. I suppose I should inform his Highness beverages and snacks aren’t provided here either?” Innes mocks, pulling out his lint roller. There really wasn’t anything more annoying than lint and fuzz on _black_ pants.

“Did you know that depending on the color suit you wear, it leaves a different impression on whoever you’re meeting?” Ephraim suddenly tells him, watching Innes wipe down the fabric.

“Does it?”

“Yeah. Like—who did you meet today? A client or something?”

“A distributor.”

“All right. I’m sure it won’t make that much of a difference, but next time you’d probably want to wear something brown. Earthy colors. It makes you more approachable and helps build relationships. Black is formal and fine, but it’s also imposing and intimidating.”

“It sounds like you read that from a book.”

“Because I did. Duh. A long time ago but I still remember it,” Ephraim lists the colors off with his fingers. “Blue is for authority. Black is for intimidating. In business at least. Gray is dependability. Red is only if you can pull off being extra because it can either make you look confident and strong or like a total douche. I wouldn’t recommend it, especially if you’re going to a meeting or something.”

“That’s useful information,” Innes nods to himself, genuinely interested. He didn’t have any other suits beside the one he was currently wearing, but he’d keep this information in mind for future reference. “You’re actually good for something other than running your mouth.”

“Kettle calling the pot hot. Or something like that. You’re welcome.”

“In light of your unnecessary but admittedly useful knowledge, I will give you something in return.”

“No need to do that,” Ephraim laughs. “I just brought it up because you reminded me.”

“And I’m only bringing this up because I’ve decided to take pity on you. You said your motorcycle isn’t functioning?” Innes scrolls through his phone. “Does that mean you do not have anywhere to take it?”

“For now, at least. Why?” Ephraim’s phone dings. He frowns, taking it out to glance at the message. “…What’s this number for?”

“That’s the number for the mechanic that looks after L’Arachel’s Vespa. He specializes is motorbikes and vehicles of those nature. I can vouch for his competence. That Vespa has been destroyed countless of times but he’s always managed to repair it as good as new. His name is Rennac.”

“Oh. Thanks,” Ephraim saves the information, sending Innes a grin. “I guess it only makes sense for your gifts to be practical. I should have expected that.”

“If it’ll help you,” Innes replies, finally cleaning off the rest of the fuzz on his pants. “I don’t see why I shouldn’t.”

“Aww, you _do_ care.”

“Minimally. This way I’ll never have to see your face on this bus line ever again.”

“Like I said. _Frosty,”_ Ephraim rolls his eyes. “Since we’re here and all, I’d like to run something by you. I’d do this through text message but I honestly don’t get half of those weird emoticons you send. My friend said they’re Hoshidan and it’s making it clear that you’re a nerd. Just saying.”

“As if _you_ can talk,” Innes hisses. “Your lazy way of writing is _illegible_. It can’t even be considered text talk if _nobody understands it.”_

 _“Anyway,”_ Ephraim ignores his comeback. “Are we still going out together next week? Myrrh hasn’t been reminding me at least three times a day for no reason, right?”

“Presumably.”

“Okay. Are we meeting up at the spot?”

“Yes.”

“All right. That’s it.”

Innes gives him a flat look.

“You made a big deal about my emoticons over _that_?”

“I mean, they’re cute? Nerdy. But cute. I’m not a nerd so I don’t understand the language.”

“Please don’t speak to me ever again.”

“Don’t get mad.”

“What did I _just_ say?”

 

* * *

 

“Whoa, you came together. And you look so fancy, Nessy!”

“ _Nessy,_ ” Ephraim snorts, laughing at Innes’s irritated expression. “Ah man, that’ll never get old.”

“Wassat mean?” Tiki asks. “Are you trying to say something about my nickname?”

“I think it’s awesome.”

“You think so?” Tiki’s smile is giddy. “I made it up all by myself. My Mummy says that I couldn’t say Innes when I was a baby, so I would say Neffy. And then it became Nessy!”

“Does Tana have one?”

“No, it’s too short and I don’t want to say Nana because that’s as long as Tana,” Tiki explains as they walk along the sidewalk. “Whoops. Don’t step on that crack, Myrrh. You’ll break your papa’s back.”

“What?” Myrrh squeaks in panic, quickly jumping over it. “That was close. I almost broke your back, Dad.”

“Not possible. Your Dad’s bones are made of steel. He pumps that iron,” Ephraim glances at Innes. “Gotta keep up my strength somehow. You know how intense cooking can be.”

“I do,” It required being on your feet for hours on end and an endless supply of stamina. Innes wasn’t very intense about exercise but he certainly kept in shape. “It tests your endurance.”

“I can give you a nickname too, if you want,” Tiki offers Ephraim. “I’ll have to think about it, though.”

“Nah, it’s all right. Nicknames are special. You should only give them to the people closest to you,” Ephraim replies with a smile. “Don’t hand them out to just anyone.”

“How profound.” Innes comments.

“I’ve got a few nuggets of wisdom to share with anyone willing to listen. Not like you. You ignored me the whole way here. Some listener you are.”

“A few nuggets of wisdom is not enough to justify an endless supply of nonsense.”

“Are you attacking me right now?”

“I’m showing you a mercy by revealing the truth.”

Ephraim stares at him for a moment.

“Do you make it a point to have a response for everything?”

“It’s my policy.”

“You have _no_ chill.”

“I’m not even sure what that means.”

“Elly says Innes is savage,” Tiki helpfully provides. “She said that means Innes is strong. That he’s built. But savage just makes me think of cabbage because it rhymes.”

“Cabbages are so cute,” Myrrh replies, derailing the conversation with her wholesomeness. “They’re so small and yummy. I like how crunchy they are.”

“They _are_ pretty crunchy,” Tiki agrees. “I like the sound they make when you cut them. My mummy makes them steamed and puts other veggies and fish inside them. They’re really good.”

“I don’t like fish.”

Tiki laughs at Myrrh’s scrunched up face.

“That’s okay. You can put different kinds of meat inside or nothing at all. Food is free! That’s what makes it so yummy. That’s what my mummy says.”

“I’d like to meet your mom.”

“One day,” Tiki says, her smile distant. “When she comes back. You can meet my daddy, too. He’s not a good cook, but he’s good at growing vegetables and fruits. We have a little garden at our house. I help him take care of it. I like digging up the holes and putting the seeds in them. They’re really cute too. And when they finally grow it’s amazing! I feel so proud!”

“You’re so helpful, Tiki. I’m not good at any of that stuff,” Myrrh admits. “I drop stuff all the time and lose things people tell me to take care of. I can’t even imagine planting a flower or fruit or anything. I’d mess it up real bad.”

“Everyone’s different. No one’s good at everything when they start,” Tiki quickly responds. “I like gardening but I’m not super amazing at it. Sometimes I crush the seeds and sometimes I put too much water and other times the things I plant don’t grow. But my daddy always says that if I like doing it, that I shouldn’t stop. That I may mess up and ruin everything at the beginning, but one day I’ll wake up and all my little mistakes will turn into the little flowers that sprout all over my garden. That’s why even if you drop something, one day you won’t and that’s the day that counts, because all the times you tried not to drop anything helped you get there.”

“Whoa,” Myrrh’s eyes glitter. “Your dad is super smart!”

“Hehe, thanks!”

Innes is astounded by Tiki’s ability to remember the entire piece of advice their father had given them. He’d heard it his own fair share, but something about a child reciting it was simply…

“ _Kid hit the nail on the head_ ,” Ephraim murmurs, his expression warm. “That’s really something else. Since when did kids dispense life advice?”

“I’m surprised she was able to memorize that as well,” Innes quietly says. “Are those the kinds of ‘nuggets of wisdom’ you claim to have?”

“Uh, don’t count your chickens before they hatch? That’s wisdomy, right?”

“Yes. And also plagiarism— _Watch where you’re going_ ,” Innes quickly pulls Tiki to the side, his sister narrowly avoiding colliding with a lamppost. “ _Pay attention_.”

“ _Pay attention_ ,” Tiki mocks him, losing all the aura of sagely wisdom she carried only seconds before. “I was gonna dodge that in the awesomest way and you ruined it!”

“I’m sure this wouldn’t have ended with you slamming straight into it and crying.”

“It sure wouldn’t have!”

“The duality of Tiki,” Ephraim remarks with amusement. “Kids are great.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'get it? Because Innes has an ice affinity in Sacred Stones? So Ephraim calls him frosty?  
> I really do love that he has ice and Ephraim has fire. Couldn't be more opposites attract if they tried.
> 
> Also, isn't it funny to think that everything falls into complete chaos if Innes is gone for five minutes. Can y'all imagine a few hours?
> 
> Who's ready to meet Tiki's Mummy and Daddy? I sure am! (Soon everyone. Soon. I actually can't wait to reunite them so Tiki won't be sad anymore.)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	7. Trips and Acquisitions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day out leads to more talk and antics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small warning for Ephraim's potty mouth. Nothing too extreme but I figured I'd mention it.

“C’mon Nessy! Hurry up! You’re so slow!”

“Stop rushing me,” Innes replies, tightening his grip on Tiki’s hand when she attempts to squirm out of it. “Settle down. We’ll get there on time.”

“You mean by sundown? Because that’s how slow you are!”

“Don’t sass me, child.”

“Don’t slow me down, adult!” Tiki pulls his arm, the action taking visible effort. “Come— _On_!”

“Since you’ve decided to be so impatient, I think we should stop by the store,” Innes comments idly, purposely digging his heels into the ground. “I have a few errands to run.”

“ _No!”_

“Did I forget anything? Maybe we should go back home and check?”

“You didn’t! You never forget anything!”

“I think we should cancel. I feel like we need to go shop for incredibly unnecessary and boring items.”

“No! _Please no_!”

“I suppose it can wait until afterwards. You said please after all.”

“You’re teasing me, aren’t you?” She pouts. “I’m telling Mummy and Daddy if you don’t stop.”

“We can’t have you doing that,” The threat falls flat considering Innes is a grown man, but he couldn’t bring himself to deny his youngest sister her strongest line of defense against him. “What would I do if Mummy and Daddy grounded me? There is no choice but to stop.”

“You better.”

“You win this time, Tiki.”

“Hehe,” She proudly puffs out her chest. “I win _all_ the time.”

Their destination is the city’s Center for Historical and Scientific Preservation. More specifically, its planetarium. Tiki had been insistent on bringing her friend along since Myrrh hadn’t ever been to one, leading to a day planned around it. Innes thought it made for a good trip. It was educational and the money made from ticket entries went towards the center’s upkeep and continued improvement.

“They’re not here yet?” Tiki asks when they arrive at the doors, no sign of their companions in sight. “I hope they didn’t forget.”

“I doubt it,” Ephraim mentioned something about Myrrh reminding him daily. It was unlikely they would simply not remember. “We arrived at the exact hour. Be patient.”

“Okay…”

At the fifteen minute mark, Tiki’s impatience becomes obvious. She starts walking up and down the stairs leading to the entrance and carelessly swinging from the railings.

“Don’t touch your face or put your hands in your mouth after this.”

“I know,” Tiki hangs from the rails, watching other visitors enter and exit with a bored look in her eyes. “Did you bring hand sanitizer?”

“Yes,” Innes was always prepared. “Stop doing that. You’re going to fall.”

“I won’t,” Tiki listens to him anyway, meeting him back at the top. “Can you call him?”

“In a bit.”

“But I wanna go in _now_ ,” She takes the offered bottle and throughly coats her hands. “Tell them to hurry up.”

“If they’re not here in ten more minutes, I’ll call. Is that all right with you?”

“I guess.”

Luckily, Innes doesn’t have to call, because moments before their agreed upon deadline, they spot Ephraim rushing towards them, piggy-backing Myrrh.

“Sorry about that,” Ephraim says to them, not even slightly winded despite having run up the stairs with a child on his back. It makes Innes question his own fitness routine. “I think we just discovered the true face of public transportation.”

“It was very crowded,” Myrrh adds, hopping down to the floor. She daintily straightens out her ruffly pink skirt. “I’m sorry we’re late. We didn’t mean to be…”

“It’s fine,” Innes finds her manners and polite nature refreshing. She couldn’t be more different from Ephraim or Tiki. “We didn’t wait very long.”

“Only twenty minutes,” Tiki places her hands on her hips. “I’ll forgive you, though. I’m just happy we finally get to go in!” She begins listing off all of the exhibits she’s interested in while Myrrh nods along, attentive to her every word. Innes wonders why she feels the need to explain it all to Myrrh when they’re about to go in so that she may see so for herself, but decides against commenting on it. Tiki was excited to finally have a friend to share her interests with. Who was he to rain on her parade?

“I haven’t really gotten a chance to check these places out yet,” Ephraim tells Innes, observing the exterior of the building. “But you’ve been here before.”

“A few times,” More so on his own than with Tiki, but the last few months had afforded him plenty of time to spend with her, leading to the discovery of their shared interests and frequent visits to the center. “There’s a new exhibition weekly. I make an effort to keep up with them. Although my main reason for visiting tends to be the planetarium.” Innes wouldn’t say he was particularly passionate about astronomy, but there was something relaxing about sitting through the shows and learning about the deepest reaches of the universe.

“Not really just _a few_ times then,” Ephraim smiles at the newfound knowledge. “You like learning about space?”

“It’s an enlightening past time,” Innes shrugs. “There’s always something new to discover.”

“I’ve never been all that interested in this stuff. Seemed kinda boring to me.”

“I take it you fell asleep during lectures quite often.”

“Spot on,” Ephraim admits. “Eirika and my good friend Lyon always had to help me cram everything I missed. They’re like you with the whole ‘ _responsibility_ ’ nonsense.”

“You poor soul,” Innes drawls sarcastically. “How dare they?”

“I know, right? If it isn’t obvious, I was more of a sports guy.”

“A jock to the core,” Innes scoffs. “How very like you.”

“Not a fan?”

“I wouldn’t say that. I dabbled in a few sports myself.” Back when Innes actually had time to indulge in them, they were a welcome relief from studying. Now the closest he got to them were the demo installations for obscure titles Tana and Tiki insisted on downloading onto his gaming console.

“You did?” Ephraim seems genuinely curious. “What kind?”

“Nessy, c’mon! Let’s go!” Tiki interrupts their chat, pulling Innes forward. “We gotta go now if we want to see everything. Let’s go, Myrrh.”

“Okay! Hurry up, Dad.”

“I’m coming.”

They get their tickets. Ephraim offers to pay for their’s as well but Innes refuses him outright. His pride wouldn’t allow for it.

“It’s not a big deal.” Ephraim tells him as the girls excitedly skip ahead beyond the admissions counters.

“ _Precisely_ ,” Innes replies, pocketing his wallet. “It _isn’t_.”

“Don’t wanna owe me anything?”

“That and it’s not necessary. Save your kindness for those who actually need it,” Innes quickens his pace, almost losing the children in the crowd. “Don’t run off ahead and get lost!”

“I know this place like the back of my hand, Nessy!” Tiki exclaims over her shoulder. “It’s all good!”

“No, _it’s not_. Stay in sight.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much. Myrrh’s got one of those kids phones on her,” Ephraim informs Innes. “She also takes martial arts classes.”

“She does?” Innes asks incredulously. “That’s unexpected.”

“She wanted to and I figured it’d be a good outlet for her. Something about wanting to be like some hero in a show she watches or something. I’m all for my kid being able to kick ass. In self-defense of course.”

“Maybe I should suggest that to Tiki?” Innes mumbles to himself. He would have to inform his parents about it. Then again, Tiki lived for her afternoon naps. He wasn’t entirely sure she would be willing to give those up. “Hmm…”

“I took them when I was younger too. I thought it would be a cool thing to bond over,” Ephraim says, stopping along with Innes when Tiki and Myrrh get distracted by the display of a prehistoric fossil. “I’m hoping it is.”

Innes glances at him, weighing whether the question he’s had on his mind for a while is worth bringing up at this point. It isn’t any of his business and Innes is simply not the type of person who enjoys prying into anyone’s private life. People have boundaries. He readily acknowledged and accepted this.

Still…

“May I…” Innes hesitates, thinking about how best to approach the matter. “May I inquire about something?”

“Hm?” Ephraim looks away from Tiki’s spot on stegosaurus impression. “About what?”

“I—You don’t need to answer. In fact, never mind.”

“Don’t chicken out on me,” Ephraim chuckles. “Ask whatever you want. I’m not going to be offended. I’ve got pretty thick skin, in case that wasn’t obvious.”

“All right,” Innes chooses his next words carefully. “You’re—Not that I would know anything about it but…you do not seem to be very experienced with child care.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. The way you say things often implies that you’re unsure. Am I correct in assuming you have not been caring for Myrrh very long?”

“…Wow. What is that called? Deductive reasoning?” Ephraim is thankfully not offended by his words but rather impressed by his conclusion. “You’re sharp. That’s exactly right.”

“Then…?”

“It hasn’t been that long since I adopted her.”

“Oh,” Innes nods. He was expecting something of that nature. His curiosity was finally satiated. “I see. Excuse my intrusiveness.”

“It’s all right. I don’t mind talking about it. You don’t need to walk on eggshells around _me_ of all people.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Tiki switches her impression to what seems to be a cross between a pterodactyl and tyrannosaurus rex. Innes observes with confusion.

“If we’re being all personal, can I ask something?” Ephraim steps closer to him. There aren’t much visitors around but Innes assumes he simply doesn’t want to risk being overheard.

“What is it?”

“Why are you taking care of your sister? She mentioned her parents and them coming back, didn’t she? What does that mean?”

“They’re currently not in Magvel.”

“Where are they?”

“Archanea.”

“ _Archanea?”_ Ephraim repeats, surprised. “Isn’t that kind of far away?”

“Only an entire ocean.”

“Archanea…” Ephraim considers the distance. “Why?”

“They’re caring for my grandfather.”

“Is he all right?”

“He took a tumble a few months ago. He’s recovered just fine but they went back to look after him.” More like _attempt to._ His grandfather Gotoh was as stubborn as they came. He refused to allow them to come in the first place, insisting he was a grown gentleman who didn’t need anyone to look after him. It only served to remind Innes that stubbornness was throughly imbedded into their genetics.

“Nessy, the show is gonna start soon, right?” Tiki runs back up to them, Myrrh following closely. “We should go right now!”

“Are you done pretending to…” Innes pauses briefly. “…do whatever it is you were doing?”

“Yup!”

“She makes such a graceful brachiosaurus,” Myrrh, ever the sweetheart, compliments her friend. “I didn’t know they could fly.”

“They can’t?” Tiki responds with a confused look. “Anyway, let’s go!”

 

* * *

 

The planetarium show is as stunning as always.

Ephraim falls asleep not even half way through, earning the ire of his daughter who’s much too kind to wake him up. Instead she sulks, Tiki succeeding in convincing her to place her attention on the entire spectacle. They’re shown a multitude of different aspects of their universe, from the formation of stars, to the creation of planets, comets dashing through the furthest reaches of their galaxy and, Tiki’s favorite, constellations.

“That’s my favorite,” She whispers to Myrrh. “I really like Draco.”

“Is it because it’s a dragon?” Myrrh whispers back knowingly, her lips turning upwards into a teasing smile.

“A little because of that. I mainly like it because you can always see it if you’re far enough north. It never disappears,” She explains. “When we lived in Archanea, we could see a lot of different constellations. Since it was dark even in the daytime sometimes, there were always stars.”

“Even in the daytime?”

“Mhm. During the winter. And during the summer it’s always bright. The sun never goes down.”

“That’s amazing,” Myrrh absorbs all of the newfound knowledge. “I can’t imagine the sun not rising or going down.”

“That’s why I don’t mind living here now,” Tiki says. “I like having different seasons. It was fun playing in the snow all the time, but going to the beach is great.”

“It’s a shame we can’t see that many stars here,” Myrrh laments. “There are too many lights.”

“It’s okay. We can just come here whenever we feel like seeing any. It’s not the real deal, but at _least,_ ” Tiki places her hand on Myrrh’s, her grin toothy. “We can do it together!”

Innes’s heartstrings most certainly _do not_ tug at Tiki’s sweet words.

Okay, maybe _a little_.

“Hehe,” Myrrh squeezes back, smiling bashfully. “Right! Oh but,” She peeks beyond Tiki to look at him. “Do you have a favorite, Mr. Innes?”

“A favorite?” Innes considers the question, gazing up at the LCD screen. They were all wonderful, but if he had to choose…“I suppose it would have to be Ophiuchus.”

“He’s the tough guy holding the snake,” Tiki translates for Myrrh. “It’s ‘cause he thinks he’s a tough guy.”

“ _No_ , it isn’t,” Innes lightly bops Tiki on the head, sighing at her cheeky grin. “It’s because it contains a galaxy that was created when two previous ones merged. I thought it rather interesting.”

“It’s almost like when you put chocolate ice cream and vanilla ice cream together,” Tiki claps her hands. “Add some sprinkles and bam! A new galaxy of flavor.”

“It’s like…white truffles and risotto,” Myrrh adds in her own example. “Or polenta.”

“White truffles?” Innes’s is surprised by the comparison. “You’ve tried them before?”

“I had it at restaurant once and thought it was good,” Myrrh responds. “It, um, had a nice, creamy, consistency. Like the risotto was melting in my mouth.”

“You put chocolate in risotto?” Tiki grimaces. “That’s gross.”

“White truffles are mushrooms, not chocolate,” Myrrh patiently corrects her. “They’re very expensive.”

“Incredibly so,” Innes glances at Ephraim who’s still snoozing away. “How should we go about waking him up?”

“I usually just pinch his nose,” Myrrh tells him. “He’s a very deep sleeper.”

“Great,” Innes sighs. “Would you like to do the honors?”

“I think it’d be funnier if you did,” Myrrh giggles. “He’ll be surprised.”

“Pour some water on him!”

“No, Tiki, I’m not doing that,” Myrrh and Tiki scoot a few seats over to make room. “Ephraim. Wake up,” He attempts, shaking the other man’s shoulder. “Ugh, he’s drooling.”

“Pinch his nose.” Myrrh whispers.

Innes concedes, doing just that. It takes a few moments for Ephraim to even react, but soon enough he’s gasping, eyes snapping open.

“Wha…s’ going’ on?” He slurs, his vision hazy as he spots Innes’s apathetic expression. “M’dreamin’?”

“The show is over,” Innes proclaims blandly. “I hope you enjoyed it. All five minutes of the beginning you witnessed.”

Ephraim groans, rubbing his eyes.

“Sorry about that…” His voice is raspy, still not accustomed to speaking after slumber. “They started talking about gases and carbon and dust and the big bang and I nodded off, I guess.”

“You only missed the most amazing space show ever!” Tiki hypes it up, winking at Myrrh. “The type that only happens once every few years!”

“Mind filling me in?”

“Nope,” Myrrh shrugs unapologetically. “You’ll have to come watch it again for yourself. What a shame. It was so amazing, Mr. Innes started crying.”

“You did?” Ephraim asks incredulously.

“It was an emotional and moving journey,” Innes deadpans, playing along with both children. “I honestly don’t think you can capture the same experience ever again.”

“Don’t they have another showing? Let's stick around for it.“

“No way! I’m hungry, Nessy!” Tiki whines. “You packed us some stuff, right? Let’s go have some!”

“Good idea.”

Innes, Myrrh, and Tiki all rise from their seats, filing out of the theatre.

“Wait!” Ephraim exclaims, quickly following after them. “Was it really that amazing? Or are you all messing with me? _Hello?_ ”

 

* * *

 

“It’s a good thing you packed something,” Ephraim says to Innes, watching him take his lunch carrier set out of his bag. “Makes me think winging everything isn’t such a great idea most of the time.”

“It’s all part of the ‘ _responsibility nonsense_ ’ you mentioned earlier.” Innes places each container on top of the picnic blanket laid beneath them. Tiki insisted on their usual spot outside the planetarium, a park with an open green meadow and trees scattered throughout. Despite it being quite chilly, the area was well-populated with visitors, children running about with wild abandon while adults watched on with far less enthusiasm.

“You made all of this Mr. Innes?” Myrrh asks, her wide eyes scanning all of the food displayed in front of her. “It looks delicious!”

“I helped,” Tiki proudly points to one particular snack. “With the…the…um…what are they called?”

“Apricot-Prosciutto Focaccia.”

“Yeah, that. And I also helped with the sandwiches and the radish tartines and...and…um…Nessy?”

“Mediterranean potato salad with haricots verts.”

“Yup! Oh, and we have tea and coffee and hot chocolate, too. There’s some other other Nessy made on his own because I got bored and left.”

“This looks like more of a feast than a lunch,” Ephraim raises an eyebrow. “Don’t you think you went a little overboard.”

“Too much is better than not enough. I’m not too concerned about it,” Innes gives his younger sister a pointed look as she begins piling on _a lot_ of _everything_ onto her plate. “At least one of us has an incredibly healthy appetite.” He glances back at Ephraim but the other man reveals himself to be no different than Tiki, already enthusiastically helping himself.

“Um,” Myrrh looks at everything, eyeing Innes shyly. “Is it all right if I have some?”

“Of course?” Innes responds, confused. “You’re more than welcome. I went off of Tiki’s preferences so feel free to voice your displeasure if there’s something not to your tastes. I’ll keep it in mind for any future outings.”

“I-I’m sure that’s not possible!” Myrrh quickly says. “Y-You’re very talented, Mr. Innes. I, um, I actually saw you at the competition the other day.”

“Did you? My apologies if I put on a poor show.”

“Not at all. You were amazing! Everything you presented looked delicious. If I’m being honest,” She glances at her father, who’s too preoccupied stuffing his face along with Tiki. “…I was kinda cheering you on. I think you deserved it, too.”

“Your father was far superior at that moment, loathe as I am to admit it,” Innes pours Myrrh a cup of tea when she gestures towards it, handing it over. “Next time, I’ll deserve your faith.”

“Hehe, you don’t need to worry. You definitely might win next time.”

“Might?”

“Yeah,” Myrrh smiles. “Because my dad is a really good cook, too! He won’t lose that easily.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” Innes lets out an inaudible laugh, offering Myrrh a plate with a little bit of each dish. “We’ll see how the proverbial cookie crumbles.”

“Okay.” She takes it graciously, her table manners much more refined than the other two currently fighting over the last croquette.

“ _Ephraim_ ,” Tiki grits out, crumbs all over her face. “You might be confused since you’re an old man, but that’s _mine._ ”

“Funny  _Shorty._ Because last time I checked we respected our elders.” Ephraim glares back. “Clearly, that’s _mine_.”

“Kids come first, geezer. Hand it over and we can end this nicely.”

“I need the strength. It’d be better off in _my_ stomach.”

“No, in mine. I need the nutrients too!”

“Give it here, Tiki.”

“No way! It’s all mine! I helped—Well, _maybe I didn’t with these_ —But I gave the cook emotional support! _I_ deserve it!”

“I saw it first.”

“No, I did.”

_“Tiki.”_

_“Ephraim.”_

“Why not cut it in half?” Myrrh asks, chewing and swallowing her own croquette. “Sharing is good.”

“It’s not about that,” Tiki growls. _“It’s about honor.”_

 _“And pride.”_ Ephraim follows up intensely.

“Let’s rock, paper, scissors!”

“You’re on.”

“Amazing problem solving,” Innes snarks. “I commend the both of you.”

“For Nessy’s croquettes, I’ll do anything!” Tiki cries out.

“I would put my life on the line for these,” Ephraim readies his hand. “Your brother wants me to win anyway.”

“ _Lies_! He’s _my_ brother. Why would he want _you_ to win? He _loves me_. He thinks you’re just kinda okay.”

“Now _you’re_ the liar. He actually thinks I’m a relatively mediocre human being.”

_“Rock!”_

_“Paper!”_

_“Scissor—!”_

“Here Myrrh, you can have it,” Innes places it onto her plate. “Enjoy.”

“Thank you!” Myrrh happily munches on it as Tiki and Ephraim watch, despair clear as day in their eyes.

“How could you Nessy? I thought you loved me!” Tiki whines, taking a large bite of her sandwich. “ _If swoh unfay-ah_.”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full.”

 _“Yo browoh iz a jwerk.”_ Ephraim responds to her, matching her equally as puffed out cheeks. He swallows. “He’s a mighty good cook, though, that’s for sure. I might stop by Rausten and request you specifically from now on.”

“Imagine the scandal,” Innes says in jest. “We would be back page news.”

“‘ _Handsome award winning chef falls victim to rival eatery’s_ _bewitching recipes’,”_ Ephraim recites dramatically. “I wouldn’t mind eating your cooking more often.”

“I’ll be sure to avoid this in the future. I can’t have you getting too attached to me.”

“Too late,” Ephraim smirk would annoy Innes more if he wasn’t pointing at him with one of the cake pops he’d packed as a dessert. “I think you’re stuck with me.”

“What horror.”

“Hey!”

Innes was correct in bringing as much as he did because both Tiki and Ephraim wipe off their plates and proceed to ask for seconds and thirds. He doesn’t know where they pack it away, but at least nothing was going to waste.

Myrrh is a slower eater, one who savors each and every bite. She asks him questions about how he cooked this or what was in that or where the origins of each dish lie. Innes answers, because he’s always willing to explain his methodology and esoteric knowledge about why certain foods are what they are and where they come from. Myrrh seems to enjoy what he has to say and pays close attention to each detail, following up with even more questions and surprising Innes with her tenacity and insistence on learning more.

“But what’s the _molecular structure?”_

“ _Aren’t you in the fourth grade, Myrrh?”_

They all finish eating. Innes places everything away while Tiki and Myrrh run off to play whatever it was children played at their age. Ephraim lies on his back, letting out a contented sigh, his eyes fluttering shut.

“I could go for a nap.”

“Didn’t you complain about how cold it was the other day?”

“This time I’m prepared,” Ephraim pats his pockets. “Got some heat packs in here. They keep me nice and toasty. This coat’s also got some quality insolation. I broke it out the other day from my closet. Now’s a good time as ever to use it.”

“You might as well,” Innes agrees. “It feels like it could snow at any moment.”

“Are your icy senses tingling?”

“No. I watched the weather forecast today.”

“Watched? On _television_?” Ephraim scoffs. “Why can’t you look it up on your phone like us ordinary people?”

“You are far from ordinary, wouldn’t you agree?”

“You think I’m special? That’s such a cute thing to say. Thanks.”

“Your ego is ridiculous,” Innes makes a face Ephraim doesn’t see because his eyes are closed. “It’s almost laughable.”

“I guess we make one hell of a pair, then. What do you call it when two egos try to one-up each other?”

“A win in my favor.”

“You’re so clever, _Mr. Second Place._ ”

Innes resists the urge to pour the remaining drinks all over Ephraim’s face.

Instead, he watches Tiki and Myrrh, both engrossed in a chasing one another. Probably playing a game of tag. Their laughs and giggles can be heard even from their far distance.

It’s peaceful.

 _“_ Stop trying to scale that tree Tiki,” Innes calls out. “You’re going to get hurt!”

“But I see something!”

“Leave it alone!”

“But Nessy!”

“Stop!”

She stomps her feet and makes the same face Innes directed at Ephraim back at himself. It’s a strange sort of resemblance.

“I remember once when I was nine, I fell off a tree trying to get down after I made it to the top. Ended up breaking my leg. We didn’t have a playground where I used to live so that was just what kids did. I tried to walk it off but my sister started screaming that it looked weird and that ‘we should get it looked at’. If she hadn’t, I probably wouldn’t have noticed in the first place.” Ephraim feels the need to tell him, still not looking at him. Innes doesn’t respond. He’s still infuriated about the second place comment.

“…”

“Yeah, I was a pretty reckless kid. Now that I look back on it, I have to wonder what I was thinking. None of what I usually planned was even remotely possible or safe.”

“…”

“I had to have broken way more than a few bones. Banged myself up constantly. My parents would get mad," He pauses. "Maybe mad is a bad way to describe it. They were _livid_. I was grounded more times than I can count. It never really mattered. Especially once I got older. I’d sneak out my window and go hang with my friends anyway.”

“…”

“You’re mad about—“

“ _Don’t_ bring it up again.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” Ephraim salutes, steering the conversation elsewhere. “So what do you do for fun?

“You aren’t obligated to speak to me,” Innes hated forced conversation more than anything else. Silence was preferable to inane rambling. “There’s no need for small talk.”

“I want to talk to you, though. It’s better than sitting around and watching a bunch of kids run, scream and knock their heads together,” Ephraim insists. “I know you cook but is that all you do?”

“ _No_ , that’s not _all I do,”_ Innes had hobbies like any other person. Maybe not of mainstream interest, but he had them. “I happen to engage in an assortment of different activities, not at all limited to cooking.”

“Like what? You mentioned sports earlier.”

“I go fishing.”

“You do?”

“Yes. Is there a problem with that?”

“No way! That’s awesome!” Ephraim’s genuine interest surprises Innes. Usually what he received in return were bored looks and mocking guffaws. Or in L’Arachel’s case demands he bring back a fresh assortment. “Like, on lakes or oceans or…?”

“I prefer the ocean.” Something he inherited from his grandfather and mother no doubt. Innes fondly recalled all of the trips they’d taken out to the open sea. How his grandfather taught him all the intricacies involved in sailing, how to find the best fishing spots. How his mother skillfully descaled and cooked up their catch with a finesse unrivaled by any other professional chef.

“I’ve always wanted to go deep-sea fishing,” Ephraim tells him, arms cushioning his head. “You do any other sports on the water?”

“I enjoy windsurfing.”

“That’s badass. What else?”

“…This isn’t really a water sport but I also like archery.” It was an activity he started young and kept up with constantly. Something about a bow and quiver in his hands brought Innes a great sense of tranquility and calm.

“Archery, huh? I tried it once and just couldn’t get into it. I got frustrated every time I got told to have patience.”

“You don’t seem very patient.”

“Hah!” Ephraim laughs. “That’s not far off the mark. I don’t know, I just _can’t stand_ waiting around for something to happen. Charging in is way more interesting.”

“Some may call that being reckless.”

“I call it being confident— _Myrrh!_ ” Ephraim’s sudden yell startles Innes. “You’re out of bounds! Come back.”

Myrrh nods, tugging Tiki back into view from the bushy area they were crouched behind. Innes thinks Tiki’s holding some kind of insect in her hand, but is unable to tell due to the distance. Hopefully she wouldn’t get the bright idea to eat it or anything.

“Myrrh’s excited I think,” Ephraim comments. “Tiki’s the first real friend she’s made. At least, that she’s told me about.”

“…I see,” It’s a personal subject, Innes gauges. He wasn’t intending on prying, and Ephraim solemn expression only assures him it’s the correct course of action. “…Tiki speaks well of her. I’m sure they’ll be good friends.”

“I hope so,” Ephraim contemplates his next words. “…She’s got an accent, doesn’t she?”

“Does it matter?” Innes answers, admittedly defensive. It wasn’t anything to get worked up about, but based on his own experiences, Tana’s, and Tiki’s, he couldn’t help but become tense whenever the subject came up. “So what if she does?”

If Ephraim notices his reaction, he doesn’t show it.

“It’s not a problem. I was curious is all,” Ephraim replies. “She reminds me of myself. I’m from Darkling Woods, which is _all_ the way out in the boonies,” He emphasizes his point by gesturing in some far off direction. “I’ve had my fair share of confrontations with smart-asses thinking they were funny enough to say something about it.”

“Really?” That surprises Innes. He hadn’t paid all that much attention, but now that Ephraim mentioned it, there was definitely hints of something non-city dweller there. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Eh, mine was never really all that thick to begin with and spending time away from home kinda only served to make it less apparent,” Ephraim glances at him from the corner of his eye, his smile knowing. “Don’t suppose it’s the same with you? You’re Archanean too, aren’t you?”

“Archanea has different provinces. Accent and dialect differs. It’s not all the same.”

“I _know_ that. Where are you from?”

“The North-Eastern territories,” A frigid land, frozen over on a consistent basis. Mountainous and rocky and the middle of nowhere. Innes misses it sometimes. Although he always wondered how his grandfather had went through with abandoning the scorching deserts and harsh sunlight of Khadein for a place that decided snow cones were an appropriate way to embrace sub-zero temperatures. “It’s the farthest north you can be.”

“People speak like Tiki up there?”

“Generally.”

“Does that include you?”

“I—That’s not relevant.”

“I guess not,” Ephraim shrugs. “Forget I said anything, then.”

“…”

“…”

“I’m not speaking any other way.”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

“It’s written all over your face.”

“Are you ashamed of it or something?” Ephraim frowns. “I mean, I don’t try to hide mine. I don’t give a damn about what other people say about it, either.”

“Good for you.”

“Don’t be that way.”

“I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Then why hide it?”

“…When I was younger, I was mocked for it.”

“ _What?_ That’s—“ Ephraim quickly sits up, infuriated. “That’s stupid as hell! _What?_ ”

“I admit it was probably my attitude more than anything that my peers disliked. The way I spoke was simply a means to make their issue with me more personal,” Innes wasn’t as mature as he would have liked to have been when he was younger. He got into arguments often and was involved in a few scuffles he never really needed to be. “I was arrogant and insolent.”

“You still kinda are.”

“Remind me why I decided to confide in you.”

“Hey, I mean…You didn’t deserve to get made fun of for it. Maybe you were a jerk but…” Ephraim crosses his arms against his chest. “…I don’t know. Calling people out on their looks or voice or anything physical and personal is just a shitty thing to do. You got a problem, you pinpoint the problem. Know what I mean?”

“I understand.”

“What about Tana?”

“It was more of an annoyance for her. People constantly pointed it out. She got sick of being reduced to ‘ _the girl with the archaean accent_ ’. It angered her to no end.”

“That’s gotta be annoying. Do you still feel like you need to hide it?”

“Not really,” Innes shrugs. “I’m simply used to it at this point. If I were to go back and return, perhaps it would be more obvious.”

“Maybe. As of now, there’s no trace of it. In a weird way, it pisses me off, since it’s only because you felt obligated to hide it.”

“It’s the past,” Not really much to look back on. Innes was older, what was important to him had changed, and childish school day antics didn’t matter in the slightest anymore. “I don’t care anymore.”

“So then—“

“ _No_ , Ephraim, I’m not letting you hear it.”

“Damn. It was worth a try,” Ephraim laughs off Innes’s annoyed glare. “If it makes you feel better, I’d respect any way you spoke. It doesn’t change anything about you. You’re still the same mean, scary, and full of himself Nessy I appreciate.”

“The feeling isn’t mutual.”

“There’s that wonderful, unnecessary snarky-ness I hate.”

“It’s all for you,” Innes sneers. “A great honor, really.”

_“Nessy!”_

_“Dad!”_

Both men immediately face the two girls running at them.

“What happened?” Ephraim asks, concerned.

“You didn’t eat that insect did you?”

Tiki gives him an unamused look.

“That’s not funny, Nessy.”

“What’s not funny is that I’d even consider that a probable source of concern,” Innes gibes back. “What’s the matter?”

“Remember when I said I saw something in that tree?”

“Yes.”

“And you told me not to climb it?”

“Yes.”

“And I got mad because I really wanted to?”

_“What is the problem, Tiki?”_

“There’s an animal up there!” Myrrh finally explains, pointing frantically at it. “It’s—We’re not sure what it is but it needs help!”

“It’s probably just a squirrel or something,” Ephraim offers an explanation. “They live in trees. It’s fine.”

“No way is that a squirrel!” Tiki shakes her head. “It’s pink and kinda skinny and—It’s definitely not a squirrel! I promise!”

They both put up enough of a fuss that both Innes and Ephraim decide their concern must be warranted. They wouldn’t be this agitated over the average woodland animal.

Tiki and Myrrh lead them to the overgrown area where they spotted the mysterious creature, babbling about aliens and potential bubblegum monsters.

“Ah, I think I see it,” Ephraim says, squinting his eyes. “What is that?”

“I can’t see it,” Innes cranes his neck around, not sure where exactly he should be looking. “Where—” There’s rustling, tree branches scattering apart. “Oh…”

Ephraim steps closer to him.

“… _What the fuck is that?_ ” He hisses into Innes’s ear. _“Is that even an animal?”_

“It’s a cat,” Innes says calmly, eyeing the creature curiously. It stares down at them, not the least bit phased by their presence. He could understand Ephraim’s confusion. It wasn’t everyday one witnessed an infamously hairless creature. “I’ve never seen this breed in person.”

“No one should ever have to,” Ephraim shudders, absently gripping Innes’s shoulder. “Let’s just leave it.”

“We can’t do that!” Myrrh exclaims. “It’s stuck. It kept trying to jump down but couldn’t get a good grip. We need to help it, Dad.”

“I’m not getting closer to that— _whatever it is,_ ” Ephraim refuses. “ _Gods_ , it’s like a hairless _rat_.”

“Don’t be mean!” Tiki pouts. “That’s a very rude thing to say!”

“What happened to not being a fan of calling people out on their appearance?” Innes repeats Ephraim’s words, regarding him with amusement. To think this was what it took to truly shake him. “Really, Ephraim, how cruel.”

“I don’t like cats,” Ephraim huffs. “They’re scary as it is. This one takes the cake for being absolutely terrifying.”

The presumably hairless feline yawns, watching their back and forth attentively.

“The least we can do is get it down,” Innes says, eyeing the trunk. “How should we go about this…?”

“Nessy to the rescue!” Tiki cheers.

“You’re so brave, Mr. Innes. Unlike _someone,_ ” Myrrh faces away from her father, disappointment clear as day. “I’m glad you understand what really matters.”

“Myrrh, it’s scary.”

“So is life.”

“Who teaches you these things?” Innes asks incredulously.

“I read books,” Is all Myrrh says, refusing to look at Ephraim. “And books also teach me we should do our best to be kind and helpful.”

Ephraim groans.

“…Fine. But I’m not touching it!” He marches forward, kneeling down. “I’ll give you a boost.”

“I won’t hurt you?”

 _“Innes,_ ” Ephraim deadpans. “You’re like a toothpick. Come on.”

“ _Excuse me_?” While Innes wasn’t exactly buff, he certainly wasn’t scrawny! “I’ll have you know I exercise a fair amount!”

“ _Okay_.”

“ _Don’t use that tone with me._ ”

“I’m not using any kind of tone,” Ephraim rolls his eyes, _clearly using a type of tone. “_ Let’s do this already _._ We can argue about regiment later.”

“ _Oaf_ ,” Innes mutters under his breath, placing one foot onto Ephraim’s hands. _“What an utterly uncouth animal.”_

"You say something? _”_

“Yes. It was an insult.”

“ _Just get the cat._ ” Ephraim hefts him up, refusing to look at the animal.

Innes reaches out carefully, attempting to keep it as relaxed and comfortable as possible.

“Come here,” He murmurs, beckoning the feline over with his fingers. “Everything is all right…”

The cat stares at him, not frightened but not entirely convinced of his motives.

“You gotta go ' _here kitty kitty',_ ” Tiki says. “It’s confused. It needs comfort.”

“Yeah _Nessy_ ,” Ephraim snorts. “ _Coo at it_. I’m dying to hear _that._ Blow it some kisses while you’re at it. Welcome it back from— _Don’t kick me!”_

 _“Sorry Rem-Rem,”_ Innes mockingly responds. “ _My foot slipped_.”

“At least take me out for dinner before you give me a dumbass name,” Ephraim hisses. “You like doll? Or maybe muffin? How about _pooky-bear_?”

_“Can you stop talking?”_

_“Stop being annoying_.”

“You’re the one who’s irritating me!”

“Point fingers all you want, doesn’t change the fact that you still haven’t gotten that stupid cat out of the tree yet.”

“ _Kitty-kitty,_ Nessy!”

“Everyone stop it!” Myrrh fumes. “Let Mr. Innes work in peace!”

“You’re a wonderful human being, Myrrh.”

“Stop stalling and get the kitty, Mr. Innes.”

“ _Damn,_ ” Ephraim chokes on a laugh. "And you thought you wouldn't get called out.”

Innes ignores the comment, focusing back on the animal who’s now stretching.

“ _K-Kitty-Kitty…_ ” Innes mumbles. “Come closer, kitty-kitty…”

It tilts its head, sniffing his fingers. Innes holds steady, refraining from any sudden movements. The cat walks forward, almost close enough where he can reach out for it.

“That’s it _kitty-kitty…_ A little more…” Innes carefully positions himself to grip the feline. It stares down at his arms as if it knows exactly what he’s attempting to do but simply refuses to make it any easier for him.

_Cats._

_“Grab it, Mr. Innes!”_ Myrrh hurriedly tells him. “Now’s your chance!”

“I’m bored,” Ephraim complains. “Get on with it.”

The cat has other ideas.

Instead of allowing itself to be held, it stares Innes straight in the eye and _jumps_.

_Towards him._

Needless to say, Innes is rightfully startled by the abrupt action.

He yelps in surprise, the cat clinging to his chest as he tips over backwards.

 _“Aw shit!_ ” He hears Ephraim curse, fruitlessly attempting to catch him before they tumble over in a heap of limbs thrown every which way.

Innes doesn’t move for a few moments.

There is no pain. Strange but he wouldn't be complaining. He’s got an armful of cat, which is lying on his chest nonchalantly, their gazes locked.

Innes could swear it’s amused.

“That hurt,” Ephraim wheezes. It’s then that Innes notices _what exactly_ cushioned his fall. “Get off, please.” He pleads, pushing Innes away from his chest.

“Sorry about that,” Innes quickly gets up, cradling the animal in his arms. He’d expected it to at least _attempt_ to run off or scratch at him or do _anything_ most wild animals would do in the battle for safety and survival. Instead, it simply allows itself to be held, its interest directed at the material of Innes’s coat. “Are you all right?”

“I’ve had worse. Don’t sweat it,” Ephraim waves off his concern. “Y’got the alien?”

“Somehow.”

“Is it okay?” Tiki asks, crouching down to have a better look.

“I’d say perfectly fine,” Innes raises an eyebrow as it plays with his zipper. “Odd little thing.”

“It really is hairless,” Myrrh observes. “Isn’t it cold? They’re probably more sensitive to the temperature since they don’t have thick fur.”

“That’s likely. It does not have a collar, which could mean it has no owner.”

“And if it’s a stray, it might not have vaccinations, either.”

“It’s skinny. Malnourished.”

“Not mean. Very friendly.”

“Abandoned?”

“Released?”

“Hey detectives,” Ephraim cuts into Innes and Myrrh’s speculation. “We got it down and that’s what matters. Leave it and let’s get going.”

“I don’t think we can do that,” Tiki frowns, gently rubbing the cat’s cheek. It leans into her touch. “It’s freezing and there’s no food here. It might get sick. I think…Nessy—“

“—We can’t take it in,” Innes stops her point blank. “They require time and care. Not to mention medical attention. We can’t provide that.”

“But we can’t leave it here!” Tiki pleads. “We can take good care of it! I promise I’ll help!”

“ _I_ will be the one who ends up doing all of the work.”

“What about you, Myrrh?”

“No way,” Ephraim turns down her suggestion. “I am _not_ taking care of that thing. Cats and I don’t mix.”

“Sorry,” Myrrh responds apologetically. “I guess we shouldn’t have gotten its hopes up…”

“Aww…”

Innes sets the animal down carefully. It stares up at him. Its wrinkly appearance would normally be off-putting, but something about it only served to charm Innes. Perhaps the reason it was alone was because no one was willing to show it any affection. It wasn’t a breed most owners wanted anything to do with. A shame, considering its rather friendly and relaxed demeanor.

Still, he wasn’t interested in taking in a stray. Imagining all of the hoops he’d need to jump through in order to prepare his home sounded like a pain.

“Cats are intelligent creatures. I’m sure it will be fine,” Innes reassures Tiki, who watches it with a forlorn expression. “We should head back.”

“Okay…”

All is well initially, save for Tiki’s downtrodden mood. Myrrh comforts her the best she can while Ephraim yawns, happy to finally be rid of the presence of the feline.

Or so they believed.

“Hm?” Innes stops in his tracks, feeling a tugging at his pants. “What…?”

“Mreow!” The cat rolls onto its back, gripping the edges of the clothing.

“No, you’re not coming with us,” Innes says sternly, carefully pulling away. “Stay here."

The cat doesn’t seem interested in listening to him, because it trots along beside them, the sway of its tail jolly.

“So cute,” Tiki laughs. “I think it likes you, Nessy.”

“You’re the one who saved it after all,” Myrrh smiles. “A match made in heaven.”

“I helped,” Ephraim butts in, grimacing when he catches sight of the cat. “Geez, it’s like an old person. So many wrinkles…”

“Ignore it,” Innes makes another attempt to leave, only to be stopped once again. “You are not making this any easier.”

“Mreow!”

“She’s really not letting go,” Tiki looks at Innes. “What’s your next move, Nessy?”

Innes clicks his tongue, staring down the feline who refuses to back down.

 

* * *

 

“Hm, what’s this?” Tana tilts her head curiously, opening the door for Innes and Tiki. “Whatcha got there?”

“It’s a girl!” Tiki does jazz hands.

Innes sighs.

“I am weak.”

The cat pokes its head out of the makeshift carrier, taking in its new home with an avid curiosity.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea why I decided that Innes taking in a Sphynx cat would be amusing but I'm glad I did. The only thing better than that is Ephraim not being a fan.
> 
> Ophiuchus is a constellation depicting a dude holding a snake. Innes can wield Nidhogg, the serpent bow, in Sacred Stones and it's also his preferred weapon in FEH. Thought it was a cute little tidbit.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	8. Turning the Tables

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rausten seeks improvement with familiar additions to the crew. Nonsense follows as always.

“You think setting up, what, some kind of corner for music would be a good idea?”

“That’s what I’m saying. I would willingly DJ for free. Unless you’re feeling generous enough to add that extra dough to my paycheck.”

“I’m not sure what benefit this would provide,” L’Arachel takes another look at Joshua’s crudely produced pros and cons chart. It’s drawn on a spare napkin, the pinnacle of professionalism. “You’ve only written down ‘hyping up my mixtape release’ here. Where is everything else?”

“There’s something you need to understand boss,” Joshua sighs, as if there is anything remotely wrong with L’Arachel not understanding his thought process. “My mixtape is _lit._ Who _isn’t_ going to come in and allow their eardrums to experience pure fire?”

“Your last one was hella lame,” Marisa says from the table parallel to theirs. Both Gerik and Innes sit across from her, the former folding gum wrappers into origami cranes while the latter is slumped over, face buried in his arms. “ _Worst_ birthday gift _ever_.”

“I admit that one was rushed,” Joshua quickly defends himself. “I’m not playing around this time. It’s _fresh_. If you buy the special edition, you’ll get my autograph and a button.”

“What’s this button got on it?” Gerik asks, burying a silver crane into Innes’s hair. There is no reaction, prompting him to continue. “Gotta be worth the price tag, right?”

“It’s me wearing a bandana and a hat.”

“No thanks,” Marisa immediately turns him down. “Don’t wanna see your mug any more than I need to.”

“Come on Marisa, do me a solid. You can’t even see my face. The hat and bandana obscure it. ”

“Pass.”

“Ness?”

“Mpphhh.” Is Innes’s muffled reply. Gerik gives him a comforting pat on the back.

“You’re all fake,” Joshua frowns. “I see how it is.”

“I’m glad you do, because I _don’t,”_ L’Arachel sighs _. “_ Joshua, I simply do not see this working in the slightest. And in any case you’re needed in the kitchen. We cannot spare anyone for the sake of disk jockey duty.”

“True. I’ve got nothing, then.” He shrugs. “Anyone else wanna step up to the crucible?”

“We could give out coupons?” Marisa suggests.

“That wouldn’t be frugal,” L’Arachel says. “We’re in no position to do that.”

“Hardcore advertising?” Gerik attempts, moving onto braiding Innes’s locks of hair. “We can go around town and give out flyers or try the social media boost.”

“I’m afraid we’ve already tried that. Nothing has changed,” L’Arachel glances at Innes. “What of you? Any bright ideas?”

“Nnnnn.”

“You’re being a baby. Get over it.”

“It’s okay little man,” Gerik rubs Innes’s back soothingly. “I mean, you only spent a fortune on a _cat_.”

Innes turns his head, glaring at his friend.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“So you could spend hundreds on a cat but not my mixtape?” Joshua shakes his head. “You ain’t loyal, Ness.”

“Stop talking to me.”

“You in a rough spot?” Marisa inquires. “We can help if that’s the problem.”

“Thank you for your concern, but it’s unnecessary,” Innes sits up, blinking when the silver cranes come tumbling out of his hair. Gerik whistles innocently. “I’ll be fine. It’s only frustrating because I was saving for something.”

“What was it?”

“It was—Well, it hardly matters now.”

“Wouldn’t you know? If you wish to fix your little issue, it would be in your best interest to contribute.” L’Arachel’s irritation is obvious, her tone sharp. Innes would usually be ready to react in a more argumentative manner, but circumstances prevent him from doing so. Rausten’s profit margins were becoming increasingly concerning. While their appearance at Fall Fest helped boost revenue for a short while, it did not last. L’Arachel had every right to be on edge.

“A smaller, more concise menu?” Innes says. “I feel as though it’s too overloaded. We have a problem with preparation time in the first place. Limiting would benefit us and customers.”

“That’s a good point. We’ll need to discuss what exactly to take off but I’ll make a note,” She quickly scribbles it down on her notepad. “Think everyone. What would motivate people to drop by? What would catch their attention if they were to pass by? What would make them want to enter?”

“My mix—“

“Decorating the outside?” Gerik quickly cuts Joshua off before he risks L’Arachel strangling him. “We could stand to have a better exterior. It’s classy, but some color would be nice.”

“We can consider that.”

“Maybe we should…” Marisa hesitates. “…Maybe we should consider reservations? People like exclusivity, right?”

“ _Absolutely not_ ,” L’Arachel scowls. “We are open to _all people, everyday_. Uncle would not have it any other way.”

“Your uncle _isn’t here_ ,” The words are out of his mouth before Innes can stop himself. Almost instantly, the temperature in the room drops. Everyone tenses. He would regret it, except Innes wasn’t one for hiding how he truly felt about matters like these. Especially not from L’Arachel. “ _You_ are.”

“What are you attempting to say?” L’Arachel’s voice is strangely even, not betraying any particular emotion.

“As long as we’re brainstorming ideas, I feel as though we should be thinking about what would benefit us _now_. I understand you’re insistence on respecting Mansel’s vision, but I doubt he would be too pleased if he found out you refused to move forward for his sake.”

“We _have_ been moving forward,” L’Arachel insists. “Everything we did at the beginning was the direct result of acknowledging that!”

“Exactly. That was _then,”_ Innes clicks his tongue. “It’s time to evolve again.”

There’s a prolonged silence afterwards.

L’Arachel is staring at the table, contemplating something. Innes lets her, pulling cranes out of his hair while simultaneously giving Gerik an annoyed look. He gets a sheepish smile in return.

“…Hm? What’s with all the gloomy faces?” A sudden voice cuts through the sullen atmosphere. “You know I can’t stand it when any of you are this down in the dumps.”

Everyone immediately faces the entrance, turning their attention to the new arrival.

“Honestly,” She tuts, gracefully taking off her shades. “Turn those frowns upside down,” A trademark wink and warm smile follow. “What’s the problem?”

“Tethys!”

Marisa is the first to rise, jumping over the table and rushing into her arms.

“Tethys!” She grins, holding her tightly. “You’re back!”

“I am,” Tethys squeezes back just as much. “How have you been?”

“Awesome! Now that you’re here, even better!”

Tethys laughs at her friend’s enthusiasm.

“Great to hear.”

“Hey, what about me?” Another guest appears from behind Tethys, pouting. “Don’t tell me you forgot— _Whoa_!”

“Ewan!” Marisa picks him up from the floor, holding him in the air. “ _My boy._ Still as rad as always.”

“You know it!” Ewan haughtily exclaims. “Now, uh, put me down please. This is giving me Simba vibes.”

“Should we start singing?” Gerik asks, ruffling Ewan’s hair affectionately once his feet are on the ground again. “Nice to see ya, kiddo. How’d globe trotting work out?”

“Oh please,” Tethys rolls her eyes. “Getting yelled at by a bunch of old fashioned grumps wasn’t enjoyable in the least. I was constantly seconds away from giving them a piece of my mind.”

“That’ll happen,” Gerik chuckles. “Nothing like getting the _‘younger so clearly incompetent_ ’ card pulled on you. Pretty sure you blew ‘em all out of the water, though.”

“Top of my class,” Tethys proudly proclaims. “Happy to be back and ready to get into the groove of things again. What do you think, Boss?”

“O-Oh, um yes!” L’Arachel stammers. “Of course!”

Tethys narrows her eyes, taking note of the uncharacteristically weak response.

“Right…” She turns to Innes and Joshua. “How have my cadets been?”

“Salty,” Joshua folds his arms against his chest. “My talent remains unacknowledged.”

“It’s all part of adulthood. You’ll get used to it,” She pats him on the shoulder. “And how’s my sweet prince? You look a little worse for wear, Innes.”

“I’ve been better.”

“He spent over three hundred dollars on his new cat,” Joshua explains. “He’s trying to get over it.”

“Ooo, a kitty-cat? Can I see?” Tethys claps her hands together, excitedly accepting Innes’s phone.

“It looks like a skinned rabbit,” Marisa says, grimacing. “I wouldn’t be too hasty.”

“Aww,” Tethys smiles at the picture of Tiki embracing the relaxed feline, the animal sporting a knitted beanie and sweater. “Did Tana make that little hat for…What’s its name?”

“Frelia,” Innes informs her. “And yes, she went a little overboard. I think Tana made her an entire wardrobe worth of clothing.”

“This is surprising,” Tethys comments. “I thought you were against having to pet-proof your place? Or having a pet in general?”

“I wasn’t given a choice,” Innes sighs. “She refused to stop following me. I’ve spent the last week running around getting supplies and adapting my home.”

“Wait, is that why you haven’t been logging on?” Ewan complains, placing his hands on his hips. “Me and Fomortiis have been wondering where you went! Can’t exactly do much without our healer.”

“Partially. You have my condolences,” Innes responds dryly. “I hope this isn’t a roundabout way of saying you haven’t been studying.”

“You forget who you’re talking to? I’m a prodigy!” Ewan punches him lightly on the arm. “I can balance all kinds of things. _You_ clearly can’t. Bailing on us like that isn’t cool.”

“I can’t help being busy,” Innes shrugs. “When is the next event?”

“Next Friday.”

“I should be able to make it then.”

“Nerds,” Joshua snorts, Marisa copying the gesture. “I can’t believe it. You get the chance to travel to Elibe, Jugdral, and Valentia and still manage to slack off playing video games. Nice Ewan. Real nice.”

“I don’t tell you how to live _your_ life,” Ewan scowls. “We brought souvenirs but if you’re gonna be difficult, I guess you don’t need them.”

“Never mind, you little prodigy _you_ ,” Joshua laughs, pulling Ewan into a soft chokehold, ignoring his indignant complaints as he gives him noogie. “Give big brother Joshua any and all presents designated towards him.”

“You jerk!” Ewan whines, reaching up to pull at his cheeks.

“In any case, I’ve learned a lot,” Tethys says. “Somehow, I’ve got a feeling things aren’t too hot here, though. Care to explain?”

L’Arachel nods sullenly, proceeding to blurt out all of their worries and concerns. Tethys listens attentively, closing her eyes occasionally to process everything she’s being told.

“I see. Fact of the matter is we’re in the red, huh?”

“Yes,” L’Arachel replies. “We were going over how exactly we are to improve our current situation.” She hands Tethys her notepad. Tethys flips through it, nodding occasionally.

“This is good,” She slaps the notepad shut once she’s done. “But I think you’re missing one key element. _That’s_ what I’m most concerned about.”

“W-What is it?”

Tethys brings her index fingers to the corners of L’Arachel’s lips, pushing them upward.

“Smile,” She says gently. “We can’t go about fixing anything if you can’t even manage that,” When L’Arachel’s lips begin to quiver she laughs, embracing her. “Everything will be _fine_. Don’t forget, you’ve got a team of knuckleheads ready to do whatever it takes to help you. Isn’t that right?”

“‘Course it is!” Gerik grins. “Don’t count us out just yet!”

“We’re all in this until the very end,” Joshua takes his hat off, holding it to his chest. “Just tell us what to do and it’ll get done, Boss. It would usually cost ya, but I’ll make an exception this once.”

“I…I’m not a chef or anything but,” Marisa scratches her cheek. “I’ll pitch in the best I can. I’m not about to let you down, Chief.”

“We’re here to kick a—“ Ewan laughs nervously at Tethys’s pointed glare. “W-We’re here to kick butt and take names!”

L’Arachel’s gaze finally falls on Innes, who stares back at her resolutely.

“You heard them,” He states, unflinching. “It’s _your_ choice, L’Arachel. Do we sink or do we swim?”

“We…” L’Arachel clenches her fists. “We swim of course! There is no other option!”

“That’s our gal!” Tethys gives her one last squeeze before letting go. “Now, let’s get down to business. I’ve spent months getting the classics down but I’m ready for a remix,” She turns to L’Arachel. “And judging by the mood, I take it you’ve been thinking the same?”

“Yes…Yes, you’re right,” L’Arachel nods. “Stagnation and stubbornness will get us nowhere. We need to find out what we’re doing wrong and fix it. What we need is a fresh breeze. Anything to get ahead of the game again. I’ve already made preparations in light of this. We need to go big.“

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Innes questions, raising an eyebrow.

As if on cue, Dozla bursts through the front doors, laughing happily.

“I’ve returned!” He exclaims. "And I bring supplies of all kinds in my wake. Just as you ordered, L’Arachel!”

“Perfect! You’ve impressed me yet again, Dozla.” L’Arachel takes a large roll of paper from his arms, gesturing to an empty space. “You can drop those crates off over here. Everyone, listen up,” She spreads the paper out on a nearby table. “Things will be changing around here. I’ve realized after much observation and inquiring, that this establishment’s classiness brings about a certain intimidation factor. In other words, potential clients are too afraid to walk in. They mistake us for an exclusive facility and that is simply not the impression I believe we should be leaving,” She pauses momentarily. “Uncle is a refined gentleman and thus ingrained that into Rausten. However, in this day and age, our clientele tends to be more lax in nature. We need an appropriate atmosphere to coincide with this.”

“Looks like you’ve thought a bunch of this through already,” Gerik observes her bluerpints, slightly confused. “Why all the panic before?”

“I-I was unsure,” L’Arachel admits. Innes can tell it pains her to admit it in front of everyone. “I did not know whether my judgement was being clouded by external factors or my own standards. I also…it was difficult. Coming to terms with straying so far from our roots. But this is no time to hesitate!” She declares confidently, her usual cocky smile finally making its appearance. “We’re going all in! I suggest all of you prepare yourselves, because there will be no rest for the next couple of weeks. We’re renovating with a deadline in mind!” Her hand slams against the table. “Winter’s Envoy quickly approaches. As you all know, this means festivities as usual. This is our chance!”

“Taking advantage of the block’s celebration?” Tethys nods in approval. “Good idea. Bad news is we don’t have a lot of time. If we wanna make it, we have to hustle.”

“Exactly,” L’Arachel responds. “The light show will be attracting a multitude of visitors. Local media coverage will also be vital. We need to strike while the iron is hot. Are we all in agreement?”

There is nary a complaint or question. L’Arachel grins.

“Then we begin. Rausten’s doors will be closed until further notice. Our evolution begins here!”

There are cheers of excitement. The tense atmosphere is displaced with a more hopeful, enthusiastic one.

Amidst all of the chatter, L’Arachel catches Innes’s eye and smirks. He huffs out a laugh.

There would be work to be done, but nothing they couldn’t handle.

 

* * *

 

Even though Innes knew they could handle it, the actual process of renovating and overhauling an entire menu with a group of incredibly eccentric and opposing personalities was easier said than done.He knew it would be tough, but he hadn’t considered just how _difficult_ it would be. There are many disagreements in regard to menu priorities, furniture, colors and _everything under the sun_. L'Arachel manages to convince them all into a more cohesive style but getting there is an arduous process. It takes them one week to actually establish the important details and what exactly they are aiming for, but they manage.

With Tethys back, the usual nonsense is further held at bay. At least, as much as it could be. She had a way of silencing with a single glance, something Innes wished he had the ability to do. There was a reason she was ‘co-commander’ (as his boss liked to put it) of the kitchen.Even Tana offers her assistance when she finds the time. L’Arachel is initially wary, still stung by her actions, but eventually the two are as chummy as can be. As if the childish melodrama of before never occurred. Innes can tell because the result of their friendship tends to end in teasing and annoying _him_ to no end.

Still, despite the goal and supervision, with a group like theirs, it was foolish to believe _anything_ could be completed without complaints or setbacks.

Innes currently finds himself in the midst of one.

“Joshua, this color is for the trim. Not the walls.”

He gets no answer. Joshua keeps bopping his head along to whatever music is blasting through his headphones.

“Joshua!” Innes attempts again. Still no response. He witnesses a routine of bizarre dance moves instead. With a frustrated sigh, Innes reaches up to where the other man is perched upon a ladder, grabbing at his baggy pants. “Joshua!”

“Whoa!” His friend screams, tugging down the headphones. “Dude! Way to almost give me a heart attack! What’s the matter with you?”

“ _You are painting_ ,” Innes points to the wall. “ _With the wrong color_.”

“What?” Joshua furrows his brows. “Nah, I think you’re mistaken. Boss said black walls, gray trim.”

“ _No_ , she said _gray walls, black trim._ ”

“Wha…?” Joshua groans, looking forlornly at all his work. “ _Now what?_ ”

“We should wait for it to dry, I think. I’m not sure if we can paint over it again afterwards,” Innes frowns. “It’s very dark.”

“Yo, Gerik!” Joshua yells into the other room. “I messed up. What do I do?”

“What’d you mess up on?” Gerik walks in, surveying the damage. “Oof. Yeah. Mixed up the colors, huh?”

“I blame Ness. He starts talking and I can’t help but zone out.”

“You are something else,” Innes pinches the bridge of his nose, ignoring the mocking kiss Joshua blows his way. “What should we do about this?”

“If it weren’t so dark, we’d probably be able to paint over it. But since it’s black, we’ll need some primer. Let it dry. Good thing Dozla brought some.”

“ _You’re welcome!_ ” Is Dozla’s hearty response, his signature jolly laugh audible from afar.

Joshua sighs.

“This is your fault, Ness. You know you can’t trust me to paint a wall.”

“I can’t trust you _as far as I can throw you._ ”

“That’s pretty far, though.”

“You know you shouldn’t tempt me.”

“Be nice kids,” Gerik scolds. “Get down from there. Might as well go do something else while we wait.”

“Yes sir,” Joshua hangs his headphones around his neck, making his way down the wobbly ladder. “Whoa!” It shakes and he clings to the metal. “Can one of you hold it down for me?”

“No thanks.” Innes moves to leave the room.

“ _Don’t leave me!_ Don’t— _ACK!_ ”

Everything happens too quickly for anybody to react. Gerik doesn’t have enough time to steady the ladder and Joshua along with it. It tips over, the paint tray situated on the opposing side’s shelf going down with it. Innes is stopped in his tracks as it splashes against his back, drenching him and splattering against his face and hair. Joshua falls to the floor, unable to save himself from the wave of black going just about everywhere. Gerik watches on with horror.

There’s a prolonged silence.

Innes slowly turns around, paint smeared on his cheeks, his expression eerily blank. Gerik knows better.

There’s a storm in his eyes and Joshua is standing in its path.

Actually, more like sprawled on the ground, groaning in pain, awaiting divine punishment.

“B-Before you threaten to beat the living shit out of me,” Joshua moans from his place on the floor. “Can I just say that black is a good color on you? At least you’ll match your boyfriend now.”

The proceeding screeches and profanities flooding the room are hard to listen to. As per usual, somebody decides to arrive in the middle of the chaos.

“Hey guys! I’ve brought lunch! Everyone’s eating together at the front so you should join us!” Tana peeks into the room. Her bubbly smile immediately falls as she witnesses the scene of complete terror, Innes clutching Joshua by his collar, shaking him to and fro while Joshua weakly laughs away the insults, tugging at his hair remorsefully.

Gerik offers her a chagrined expression.

“Nice timing. We could use a break.”

 

* * *

 

“I was foolish to think the both of you wouldn’t cause trouble,” L’Arachel scowls, her hands on her hips. Innes and Joshua sit beside one another, Tana and Tethys meticulously assessing the damage done on their hair. “Honestly, what are you, _children_?”

“ _He_ sure as hell isn’t,” Joshua elbows Innes in the arm. He rolls his eyes at the glare directed at him “Did you hear what he said to me? I mean, I didn’t get most of it, but I could tell it was fancy speak for _‘you’re a big dumb-dumb Josh!_ ’”

“You’ve got the gist of it,” Innes sneers, wincing when Tana tugs particularly harshly on his hair. “ _Ow._ ”

“It was an accident,” His sister says. “Forgive him.”

“Yeah man, I was a casualty, too. You should be mad at Gerik. He did nothing.”

“I tried?” Gerik shrugs apologetically. “Sorry Innes. Should've reacted quicker.”

“It’s fine,” Innes sighs, glancing at Joshua. “It's to be expected. He is a dunce and cannot help it.”

“Dude. Not cool.”

“What’s not cool is the _paint in our hair._ ” Call him vain or whatever, Innes took pride in his appearance. His hair was cared for with the highest quality of products. He went out of his way to make sure no harm came to it.

It seems as though that streak ended today.

“About that,” Tethys hesitates over her next words. “Um, I’ve got some good and bad news for the both of you. What’ll it be first?”

“Bad.” Both immediately respond.

“All right. Bad news is, this paint is stubborn and refuses to come out,” Tethys emphasizes this point by tugging at Joshua’s, to no avail. “Your hair is complete mush.”

“What kind of paint did you buy?” L’Arachel asks Dozla. “Just out of curiosity.”

“The very best! Exactly as you requested,” Dozla visibly shrinks. “Was this all because of me? It wasn’t my intention.”

“Don’t sweat it. It’s not your fault!” Joshua quickly clarifies. Not a single one of them could stand Dozla blaming himself or being sad in general. “Me and Ness are morons. We should have been more careful.”

“ _You_ should have been more careful.” Innes mutters petulantly.

“Hey, you’re the one who refused to steady the ladder,” Joshua defends himself. "This is both our faults.”

“Whatever.”

“Yeah anyway,” Tethys continues. “Goods news is it’s nothing we can’t fix. You two won’t have any bald spots, but there’s, um, there’s work to be done.”

“What work are you talking about?” Innes asks despite _knowing_ where the conversation would inevitably lead to.

“We’ve got to snip it off,” Tethys tells him point blank. “There’s no other way around it, unless you want to walk around with black gunk in your hair.”

“This stuff is like gum,” Maria interjects, taking a lock of Innes’s hair and feeling it between her fingers. “Really weird. Like alien goo. I bet this is what your cat looks like on the inside.”

“ _Don’t speak about her that way._ ”

“Innes,” Tana sets a hand on his shoulder. “I think it’s time. A long time coming don’t you think?”

“You’re enjoying this.”

“A little,” His sister smiles. “I’ll make sure you look as cute as a button.”

“I guess this is our just desserts,” Joshua sighs. “Nothing to do but to get it over with. It’ll grow back eventually.”

“Nice attitude to have,” Tethys says. “What about you, Innes?”

“I agree.”

Dozla retrieves a pair of scissors, handing it over to Tana.

“Any last words?” She questions, snipping the air dramatically.

“A confession to Joshua,” Innes faces the other man, gazing deep into his eyes. “Before we go through with this, I want to make something clear. I know it may seem as though you annoy me more often than not. I make an effort to behave that way. The truth is…”

Joshua holds a hand to his heart.

“… _Yeah?_ ”

“It’s… _actually true_. I wish you would stop being as irritating as you are. That way, maybe we wouldn’t end up in these situations.”

“ _Why was I expecting anything else?_ ”

 

* * *

 

“That’s a new look.”

“Shut up.”

Ephraim laughs as Innes glowers at him.

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way,” He says across the aisle, observing Innes from the corner of his eye. “You look nice. It suits you.”

“Because it didn’t before?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Hmph.” Innes stares out the window, the bus trekking along the road to work. After yesterday’s disaster and the subsequent consequences, they’d made decent progress. His new look still took a little getting used to, despite not being all that radical a change. Tana’s expertise in anything beauty related was truly life-saving, as both he and Joshua were both saved from potentially looking like utter clowns.

“Lose a bet?” Ephraim questions.

“A renovation mishap.” Is all Innes says in response.

“Oh.”

“Yes.”

“So that’s why you told me not to bug you for a while,” Ephraim nods to himself, pleased with his deduction. “When d’you think you’ll be finished?”

“By the arrival of Winter’s Envoy.”

“Cutting it close there,” Ephraim whistles. “Can’t wait. It’s not the same when customers aren’t coming in comparing us to you guys. I’m not as motivated.”

“You don’t find that irritating?” Innes raises an eyebrow. He knew it annoyed _him_ to no end, although he could admittedly agree it pushed him to improve. If only for the sake of superiority over Ephraim.

“Nah. It always gets me pumped. Nobody else really gets it,” Ephraim snorts. “They always tell me to cool it. _‘It’s just cooking!’ ‘Relax!’ ‘You’re just a cook! It’s not that big a deal.’_ ”

“‘You’re taking it too seriously.’ ‘Stop trying to steal the show.’”

“Exactly!” Ephraim nods along to Innes’s additions. “It’s like they don’t want you to enjoy your job!” He sighs. “When you love something this much, how can you _not_ want to be the best at it?”

“As if improvement is nothing to stride for.”

“As if you’re being stupid or childish.”

“ _They don’t get it._ ” Both say at the same time. Surprised, they face one other.

“They don’t…” Ephraim repeats, his smile the softest Innes has ever seen it. “But…I’m guessing you do?”

“I-I—That is,” Innes quickly looks away, scowling. _Gods_ , what was he doing getting sentimental with _Ephraim_ of all people during his ride to work? Ugh. “I-It’s annoying, is all I meant to say. Having someone push their expectations of what _they_ think you should be doing onto you. _Complete rubbish. All of those unnecessary and unneeded comments._ ” He was fortunate Rausten was filled with _overly supportive_ people. His time working, while at the same time he was schooling, was another matter entirely. He’d met the nastiest of people during those years, more willing to tear _him_ down rather than to improve _themselves_.

He was glad that stage of his life was over. Nowadays the people he surrounded himself with expected him to get better and praised him any chance they could about it.

Ephraim doesn’t immediately respond but Innes makes no effort to look at him. He doesn’t know why he feels a sudden sense of camaraderie with the other man. Doesn’t know why he finds it pleasing to know they share the same ideology when it came to pursuing greatness. He should be focusing on work. On all of the manual labor ahead of him for the day.

It was a pain but for everyone’s sake, he would put in his best effort.

They get off at their stop, walking side by side in silence. Ephraim seems thoughtful, his expression strangely subdued. Innes finds it odd. Did he say something to bother him?

Unsurprising but still.

Right when they are to part, headed towards their respective workplaces, Ephraim finally says something.

“Thanks.”

Innes blinks.

“For what?”

Ephraim shrugs, a vague smile gracing his lips.

“For being yourself, I guess.” He walks off. Innes watches his retreating back.

Strange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our queen has arrived. You all have no idea how excited I was to finally include Tethys! Her and Gerik are team parents and nobody can convince me otherwise. And we can't forget our precious son Ewan! I just really love the idea of him and Innes being friends and playing video games together. Innes keeping an eye on him for Tethys, along with the rest of Rausten is too cute for me to pass up.
> 
> Feel free to speculate what exactly Innes and Joshua's new haircuts look like lol  
> (pss don't worry it'll grow back)
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	9. Winter's Envoy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rausten reopens.

L’Arachel takes a deep, calming breath.

“This is it, everybody. Today is the day,” She glances around the kitchen at all of her subordinates. “We’ve come a long way. At times, I severely doubted our capabilities, questioning how exactly we managed to make it this far in the first place. But we did and that’s enough reason to rejoice,” L’Arachel pauses, weighing her next words. “…Thank you all. Even if this doesn’t work out, I appreciate everything you’ve done,” The solemnity of her expression doesn’t last long, because she’s laughing proudly in an instant. “Fortunately I won’t have to admit that, because there is no doubt we will succeed! Are there any questions before we open our doors?”

“I have a comment to make,” Marisa raises her hand. “I’m really liking this new uniform. Neckerchiefs are badass.”

“I’m glad you like them,” L’Arachel grins. “Direct your thanks to Tana the next time you see her. If not for her, they would not exist.”

“I’m sure she’ll appreciate it whenever she gets over her sleep deprivation.” Innes responds. His sister had stayed up all night working on them and requested he deliver them before stumbling to bed that morning. After work, maybe he’d stop by the store to pick up her favorite dessert as thanks. Tiki would surely appreciate it, especially since Innes would be gone most of the day rather than home celebrating with her.

“True dedication,” L’Arachel says. “Any other questions or concerns?”

“Nah, I think I’m ready,” Joshua cracks his knuckles. “It’s about time we get cookin’. I'm so done with fixing stuff. I don’t think I can ever look at those home renovation shows the same way again. It looks easy until you’re practically eating drywall.”

“Don’t get me started. My skin didn’t appreciate _any_ of that,” Tethys says, glancing at Innes. “Yours isn’t doing so hot either, right?”

“Not at all,” He grimaces. “It’s drier than I’d like it to be.”

“Can’t really say that’s unusual in our line of work,” Gerik responds, giving Innes a firm pat on the shoulder. “Huddle up, kids.”

“Is this necessary?”

“ _Innes_ ,” Gerik’s smile holds no room for refusal. “Huddle. _Up._ ”

Everyone forms a circle around Gerik, each person placing their hand upon his.

“ _What_ team—“

“ _WILDCATS!_ ” Both Joshua and Marisa screech before anyone else can answer.

“I was kinda assuming you’d say Rausten…” Gerik shakes his head, confused but unwilling to spend a second more on questioning anything further. “Wildcats it is.”

“That isn’t even relevant to us,” Tethys frowns. “At least pick an animal we have a connection to.”

“Relevancy is hardly their reasoning,” Innes explains to her, rolling his eyes. “Ignore their stupidity.”

“The only thing that’s stupid is your lack of wildcat spirit Troy,” Joshua scoffs at him. “Get your head in the game.”

“Why don’t you break free from your boringness and bet on our genius?” Marisa adds, giving Innes the stink eye. “Keep up with the memes, dude.”

“ _Those movies came out over a decade ago._ ”

“What are you three even talking about?” L’Arachel asks, the most baffled out of all of their group. “Are you referencing something?”

“ _Do not ask_ ,” Innes groans. The day was only starting and he could already feel the last of his patience wearing thin. “Can we get this pep talk over with already?”

“Well, if you’re so antsy why don’t _you_ do it?” Gerik motions for Innes to take his place. “Inspire us, prince of cuisine.”

“Why are all of you so annoying?”

“That’s not very inspirational,” Tethys tuts, wagging her finger at Innes. “Come on, give it a try.”

“Fine,” Innes lets out a heavy sigh. “Rah, rah, the power of friendship and courage or whatever. Doing our best blah blah, great. No one here will ever be as good as me but the fact that you try is good enough. What else?…Oh, yes, our bonds give us strength so try to think about that when Joshua no doubt messes up and makes you want to bang your head against the wall. Does that sum it up?”

“You mentioned me!” Joshua slings an arm around Innes’s shoulder, not the least bit offended by his words. “I knew you cared, buddy! I’ll think of our bonds when you’re nagging me about presentation and being an overall controlling, stuck-up stick in the mud!”

“I’m glad we have an understanding.”

“Morale is certainly high,” L’Arachel proclaims proudly. “I’m counting on all of you. Let’s make this a good day.”

 

* * *

 

“These are real popular nowadays. You can link them together and make different patterns.”

“Huh…” Ephraim scrutinizes the accessories neatly displayed on the booth’s table. “How many can you link together until they cover your entire arm?”

“Uh…” The shop owner furrows her brows. “I can’t say, man. Maybe twelve? I mean, you don’t need to link them. One should be enough unless you’re feeling spendy.”

“Nah, I was just curious. Can I get four?” Ephraim points to the bracelets he thinks have the nicer color combinations. He wasn’t good at picking out jewelry or anything, but he at least knew which colors Eirika and Myrrh would appreciate the most. “Those ribbons are nice, too. Give me a set of them.”

“Which color?”

“The yellow ones,” Purple would blend into Myrrh’s hair. He’d already made that mistake before. “Thanks.”

“No problem. Hope you have a great Winter’s Envoy.”

Ephraim hoped so, too. It would be Myrrh’s first with him and he wanted to make sure she throughly enjoyed it, even if this year’s would be disjointed and unorthodox. It wasn’t her fault Fado was a _stubborn, old-fashioned, close-minded—_

 _Okay, no,_ Ephraim was _not_ thinking about this right now.

He _wouldn’t_ think about how annoying his dad could be while Myrrh spent time with Fado, Morva and Eirika. Exploring the market was supposed to be _relaxing._ He was supposed to find something productive to do and eventually he’d pick Myrrh up and they could celebrate at home together and not worry about causing a scene at the annual family dinner.

It was a good plan. Fool-proof really.

 _“Well, well, well,_ if it isn’t the _Remster._ ”

Ephraim turns around at the familiar accented voice. He finds the ever-petite Tiki staring up at him with an amused smile, holding a curious Tana’s hand.

“If it isn’t the _Tikster,_ ” Ephraim returns her excited wave. “With big sister to boot. Out for a night on the town?”

“‘Course we are!” Tiki responds happily. “It’s festival time so we’re going around having snacks and looking at everyone’s goodies.”

“Sounds fun.”

“It’s actually really hard work. And unfair,” Tiki pouts. “Especially since I can’t eat everything. _Tana won’t let me eat everything.”_

“Would you really want the tummy-ache?” Tana asks, raising an eyebrow. “Because you’d totally get one and regret it.”

“My tummy is rock-solid,” Tiki argues back. _“Impossible!_ ”

“Of course I know that, but let’s _not_ buy out the whole block. For their sake. Wouldn’t be fair if they didn’t get to try anything because you cleaned out every stand.”

“I guess that’s fine…” Tiki nods before turning her attention back to Ephraim. “But what are _you_ doing here?”

“Shopping around,” Ephraim holds up the bag in his hand. “Myrrh and Eirika love this kinda stuff.”

“Why aren’t they with you?”

“I’m heading back later. Thought I may as well finish up getting a few more presents.”

“If you say so…” Tana scrutinizes him but doesn’t press the issue. Ephraim thinks it’s scary how sharp she is. “We’ll get going then. We still have a lot of stands left to check out.”

“Why don’t you come with us?” Tiki asks. “Unless you want to be alone. That’s okay, too.”

“Nah, it’s not like that.” Ephraim smiles at Tiki’s consideration for his feelings. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt your holiday together.”

“We’d appreciate the company,” Tana shrugs. “We’re kinda on our own for now. Innes is working. We were planning on dropping in on Rausten and having dinner there while we wait for them to close up.”

“And then we’ll see the lights!” Tiki adds giddily. “They’re super pretty. You’ll probably miss them but don’t worry. I’ll tell you all about them when we see each other next time. So whaddya say? Wanna hop aboard the amazingly awesome Tiki-Tana party train?”

“You sure I won’t be in the way?” Ephraim questions, raising an eyebrow.

“The more, the merrier!” Tiki insists. “But if you don’t want to, it’s all right.”

“Guess I’ll be joining you two,” Ephraim finally accepts their offer. Spending the afternoon with Tana and Tiki seemed pleasant enough. Not like he had much else going on anyway. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” Tana eyes him critically. “There’s something really sad about seeing you mope around all by yourself on Winter’s Envoy.”

“I’m not moping!”

And so that’s how Ephraim ends up exploring the market with a pair of bubbly sisters.

It’s actually a lot of fun. Tiki is as excitable as always. With the added holiday cheer, even more so. She still has a bit of a sharp tongue when it comes to speaking to him, but rather than finding it off-putting, Ephraim is throughly amused by her wit. Tana isn’t too keen on it, but he assures her he doesn’t mind it in the least.

“Hey Ephraim,” Tiki cannot contain her giggles as she shows him an overly-buff action figure dressed in holiday gear. “Doesn’t this kinda look like Nessy? Except he’s not as big?”

“I think I see the resemblance,” Ephraim snickers, taking it from her to get a closer look. He can barely hold back the laughter threatening to escape his lips at the thought of an excessively built Innes. The guy was just so _slender_. At least from what he could tell. “Kinda tempted to get it. Just to see his reaction.”

“Do it!” Tiki hops up and down. “He’ll get so annoyed!”

“Since when did you like annoying your brother?”

“Since I was _born_.”

“Huh. What’s your take Tana?”

“I mean, the appropriate response would be to stop you,” Tana hums thoughtfully. “But I don’t really care about how you and Innes decide to interact with each other _so_ …go ahead.”

Ephraim takes another look at the figure. Its scowl is oddly familiar, hair combed to perfection. The extra muscle mass aside, it really _did_ kinda resemble Innes.

“Looks kinda familiar,” Tana says off-handedly about the toy. “Maybe I’ve just seen something like it before.”

“Maybe.” He hands it over to the stand owner. It may be a dumb purchase, but judging by both Tiki and Tana’s amused expressions, Ephraim could guess it would be worth it.

 

* * *

 

“Table for three please.” Tana politely requests with a wink.

“Oh. It’s the little sisters,” Marisa waves at them, gaze falling on Ephraim. “And…uh…Philip?”

“Ephraim.”

“Shoot,” Marisa snaps her fingers. “Sorry about that. You look like a Philip, if that makes you feel any better.”

“It doesn’t, but I didn’t feel any kind of way about it in the first place.”

“Cool,” Marisa offers a relaxed smile. “You can follow me. Careful, though. We’re pretty packed.”

She leads them through the dining area. Ephraim takes in the decor with interest. It’s a shame he’d only ever come by once before all the changes, and had only really gotten a look at the front at that. It would have been nice to have a better reference for comparison. At the very least Tiki glances around with awe, commenting on the decor and bragging about how hard both her siblings worked to get it to look so nice.

“You helped?” He asks Tana, taking a seat in the booth they’re lead to. Tiki slides in first across from him, Tana following after.

“Of course I did,” She huffs. “I help all my friends.”

“You’re so nice, Tana,” Tiki says, taking the menu Marisa hands her. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Marisa takes their order for drinks. “I’ll be back so…y’know, decide what you want. Most of the stuff is new. Uh,” She purses her lips, eyebrows furrowed in an attempt to recall something. “Oh yeah. ‘ _Feel free to be adventurous_ ’.” She finally says.

“Did they tell you to say that?” Tana inquires.

“Boss said it’d make people comfortable and willing to try new things,” Marisa shrugs. “Did it work?”

“It sure did!” Tiki grins. “I’m gonna try _all_ the new things!”

“Great.” Marisa gives her a thumbs up before walking off to serve other customers.

“You really plan on having everything?” Ephraim asks.

“Well…maybe not everything,” Tiki admits. “I’m not super hungry because I had a lot of snacks on the way here. But I can definitely fit in some dinner! No doubt about it.”

“I’m keeping it light myself,” Ephraim responds, looking through the menu. “Gotta keep some room for the annual Bûche de Noël. Myrrh’s been looking forward to it.”

“S’that the chocolate log thingy?”

“Yeah.”

“Lucky,” Tiki pouts. “Nessy _hates_ making desserts. He only makes them when he feels like it. Which is _never._ ”

“They’re my speciality,” Ephraim informs her. “At least, everyone tells me they are. Except your brother. He really tore my Mille-Feuille apart when we first met. Gave me a four point one.”

“He did?” Tana tilts her head. “By his standards that’s pretty good. Consider yourself lucky.”

“Don’t you mean talented?”

“Semantics.”

Marisa returns and they each place their orders. It doesn’t take very long for them to get their meals, which is honestly surprising. Rausten didn’t seem to have a large staff. Renais didn’t either but getting things done was kinda difficult _not_ to do with Seth directing them with an iron fist.

When Ephraim comments on it, Tana tells him about how they’d cut down on menu items and gone out of their way to make everything more efficient. It was strange to hear, considering he’d never even noticed that Rausten was even going through rough times. Although now that he thought about it, the time he came to pick Myrrh up had shown him a completely empty restaurant with a crew of chefs lounging around bored.In stark contrast, Ephraim takes note of how lively the place is now, a sense of relief flooding his system. Business rivals or not, it wasn’t as if he _wanted_ Rausten to fail. He genuinely hoped they could continue to keep their doors open for as long as possible.

He assumes that won’t be difficult to do, because when he takes a bite of his pappardelle with sea urchin and cauliflower, he questions how crisis could have struck them in the first place.

“Enjoying your meal?” The sudden question startles the three seated patrons. L’Arachel glances around at them, a smirk on her face. “Couldn’t help but stop by, right? I understand. An eatery as great as this one calls to your senses, does it not? You feel compelled to enter, yes?”

“Kinda,” Tana says dryly. “We’d starve at home otherwise.”

L’Arachel laughs, either oblivious or uncaring of Tana’s blunt statement. Her attention falls on Ephraim.

“I see my son’s arch nemesis has decided to show his face. Risky move to make on enemy territory.”

“I don’t play by the rules,” Ephraim says dramatically, winking at Tiki who giggles. “Happy holidays. Great to see this working out for you.”

“Of course it’s working out. Even better than that. It’s going phenomenally,” L’Arachel places her hands on her hips, chest puffed out proudly. “Tune in to channel eight tonight. I gave a marvelous interview and it’d be a shame if you missed it.”

“Wow. Really? You’re famous, Elly!” Tiki exclaims. “Being on tv is so cool!”

“It is, isn’t it? But enough about that,” Despite her words, it looks as though L’Arachel is fighting against the urge to continue lavishing praise upon herself. “I’d ask if you’re enjoying your meal, but I already know the answer to that. Feel free to have some dessert.” L’Arachel goes to walk away but Tiki’s sudden request stops her.

“Can you ask Innes if he can make it?” Tiki frowns. “It’s okay if he can’t but…I’d like it if he did.”

“Well…” L’Arachel contemplates her request. “I’ll see what I can do. We’re pretty busy so don’t get your hopes up.”

 

* * *

 

“The child of light is requesting a dessert. Make her a dessert, you animal.”

“Excuse me?” Innes scowls. This really wasn’t the time for L’Arachel’s silly games. There were five tables waiting on their orders. “What are you talking about?”

“She specifically requested you make her a dessert. Tiki that is.”

“She’s here?” Innes sighs. “I assume Tana is as well?”

“Yes,” L’Arachel clasps his shoulder. “I give you permission. The rest of the crew can handle the workload while you figure that out. Right?”

“Be the awesome big bro you were born to be,” Joshua says from beside him, sautéing vegetables with a musical rhythm. “I can cover for you. As long as you make it up to me.”

“What would that entail?”

“Let’s hit the casino together.”

“That sounds like a horrible idea.”

“Just do what I do and you’ll rake in the cash.”

“ _No_.” The last and only time he went along with Joshua, they’d both almost been kicked out on account of the red head’s absurd and suspicious amount of luck at the time. He’d told Innes he really _hadn’t_ been cheating and that it was simply a lucky fluke, but that hardly mattered in the face of an infuriated casino owner and his team of security. They’d left as quickly as they could, Innes vowing to never accompany Joshua ever again. He actually _valued_ his life.

“ _Fine,”_ Joshua clicks his tongue, disappointed with his response. _“_ I’ll also accept an awesome hang out session with my favorite, stick in the mud, pretty boy prince. And don’t start nagging, I promise no gambling your life savings away will be involved.”

“That’ll do,” Innes faces L’Arachel once again. “Anything else, tyrant?”

“I also insist you give it to her in person,” L’Arachel takes his jab at her in stride, clearly enjoying the title. Of course she would. “Think of it as a little, mini break. As a show of how much I care for your well-being.”

“Being rather generous, are you not?” Innes narrows his eyes. “Why am I suspicious of your motives?”

“I don’t know. Ask yourself why you feel the idiotic things you do.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“If you want a fight I’ll give it to you. Winter’s Envoy style,” L’Arachel waves about the handbell she’s been carrying around the entire day, poised as if to strike. “Want a bonk on the head?”

“No, thank you. Now go away. You’re distracting me.” Innes rolls his eyes, walking away.

“Where are you going?”

“You told me I have a request for dessert to fulfill, right?”

 

* * *

 

“What a surprise.” Innes says in the driest and most monotone manner he can muster. Marisa would be proud if she could hear him.

“Yo,” Ephraim glances up from his phone momentarily before continuing to type away. “Hold up a sec. I’ve got to check something.”

“Okay,” Innes responds, a bit miffed at being cast to the side like that. Whatever. It’s not like he wanted Ephraim’s attention or anything. He faces his sisters instead, taking in their delighted expressions. “I come bearing sweets.”

“Yummy!” Tiki excitedly takes the plate from him, eyes widening as she observes the bowl resting upon it. “Was’ this?”

“Panettone bread pudding,” Innes carefully places the second plate in front of Tana. “Enjoy.”

“Thanks,” Tana smiles appreciatively. “Can I just say you look absolutely darling!” She squeals, admiring her handiwork. “I did a great job on those, didn’t I?”

“I suppose so,” Innes reaches up to tug at the neckerchief. “Joshua would not shut up about how much we resembled the power rangers. Everyone has taken it to heart,” He grimaces. “It’s very painful.”

“I wanna look like a power ranger!” Tiki pouts. “I wanna be the red ranger! They’re always the leader. You can be the pink one, Tana. Nessy can be the light blue one. And,” She glances at Ephraim who’s still preoccupied with his phone. “What’s your favorite color?”

When he doesn’t respond, she throws a napkin at him.

“Huh?” Ephraim finally tears his eyes away from the screen. “What’d you do that for? Not cool, shorty.”

“What’s your favorite color?” Tiki asks once again. Innes would usually scold her but there was something satisfying about seeing her throw things at Ephraim.

“Favorite color?” Ephraim stares off into a corner, seriously mulling it over. Innes doesn’t see why such a simple question requires more than a few nano-seconds of thought, but Ephraim was an odd man in general. It made little sense to ponder over it. “Probably green.”

“Green ranger,” Tiki instantly dubs him. “Myrrh can be the yellow ranger so that makes an entire squad,” She stands up slightly in her seat, posing similarly to an early morning cartoon hero, mimicking the sounds of the grandiose explosions that would normally go off in the background of introduction scenes. “Go, go power _rangers_!” Her rendition of the music is spot on.

“Yes, yes. Now take a seat and eat your pudding. You went out of your way to ask for it,” Innes sighs when she knocks her fork over sitting down, picking it up sheepishly before setting it down on the table. “Enjoy.”

“Can’t stay a bit?” Ephraim asks. “Have a chat?”

“I thought you were busy.”

“Not anymore.”

“It doesn’t matter. I have to get back to work.”

“But _Nessy_ ,” Ephraim smirks at Innes’s scowl, enunciating the nickname and dragging it out as long as possible. “I came all this way and you’re just going to leave? Deny us our quality super friendly and non-argumentative conversation time?”

“I’m afraid I am, as much as I enjoy speaking only _kind words and sweet nothings_ to you.” Innes sneers.

“Why not stay a little afterwards?” Tana suggests to Ephraim, savoring a bite of her bread pudding. “You won’t have to leave too late so you’ll definitely make it in time to spend the rest of the night with Myrrh. We’re gonna have a little, old fashioned Winter’s Envoy toast so…wanna?”

“I can’t really drink right now.”

“You won’t have to,” Tana reassures him. “L’Arachel herself only drinks sparkling fruit juice. I’m sure she’ll be willing to share.”

“That’s what I drink,” Tiki says proudly. “She even puts cherries in it.”

“I mean, as long as I’m not in the way,” Ephraim hesitates, glancing at Innes. “You think that’s all right? I won’t cramp your style, will I?”

“You’re more than capable of doing that to yourself,” Innes scoffs, walking off. “Do whatever you want.”

“That translates to sure! Stay back!” Innes hears Tana say. He would complain about her speaking on his behalf, but it’s not as if he cares all that much. His coworkers didn’t seem to have any problems with Ephraim, so it should be completely fine.

 

* * *

 

 

The restaurant closes successfully, more than exceeding L’Arachel’s expectations.

There are some waterworks. It can’t be avoided. Gerik was always such a softy and unafraid to show it. He brings them into a group huddle, praising them on a job well done. There are some groans and complaints but overall everyone returns his sentiments. It’s fine. Emotional but fine. Innes feels good inside.

Again, everything should be fine.

Until it isn’t.

Innes should have expert the worst. Not from Ephraim, but from the people he mistakenly associated himself with.

Ephraim follows behind Tana and Tiki and Joshua’s eyes meet his own and just—

His sleazy grin makes Innes want to deck him in the face.

“ _Well_ ,” Joshua drawls obnoxiously, sauntering forward. “Ain’t this a nice surprise! If it isn’t our prince’s fated rival!” Innes resists the urge to just leave and never look back. Joshua hadn’t exactly been subtle with his teasing in regards to the nature of Innes and Ephraim’s association, when it could hardly even count as one. Tiki and Myrrh were friends and they had to look after them together yes, but there was little else. Maybe Ephraim texted him the occasional idiotic message or image and Innes in turn responded with his usual brand of snark resulting in chains of responses and competitive mocking that had Innes wondering afterwards why he’d even spent so much effort _responding in the first place._

L’Arachel smiles widely at her employee’s greeting. She couldn’t help herself when language of fate and destiny came up. Joshua knew this. Innes knew this.

Innes hated Joshua for this.

“Fated indeed!” She proclaims, shaking Ephraim’s hand for some strange reason. Ephraim doesn’t seem to mind, only smiles sheepishly in return. “Welcome. This is our place of battle. Brand new and absolutely overflowing with positively blessed and sacred energy.”

“Cool. Um…” Ephraim glances around, clearly confused but unwilling to say as much. “I can tell. The energy is obvious.”

L’Arachel laughs happily.

“It is, isn’t it?”

“Excuse me but…” Tethys chimes in, stepping forward. “What’s this about rivals and their relation to the prince?” She sends Innes an inquisitive look. He avoids it.

“I’m Ephraim,” He holds his hand out to her. “Nice to meet you. You work here?”

“Tethys. And yes, I do.” She shakes it firmly enough to startle Ephraim. “You can say I’m in charge of keeping an eye on these silly kids. You’re a friend of Innes?”

“Kinda? I work across the street. I like making him mad.”

“Welcome to the club,” Tethys laughs. “There’s no shortage of those types here.”

“Nice to see you man,” Joshua takes Ephraim’s hand next. “Thank for stopping by. We, and by that I mean Innes, really appreciate it.”

“No problem?” Ephraim tilts his head. “Congrats on the reopening. Hope it keeps going well for you.”

“Us too,” Joshua responds. “Else you’re gonna have to make room for us at Renais.”

“Eirika would like it. She’s all about making friends and being nice. She probably wouldn’t mind the extra hands either.”

“Unfortunately for you that’s not happening,” L’Arachel huffs. “I can consider loaning someone out, but not handing them over.”

“We’re not items.” Innes remarks.

“You’ll be the first to go.” She shoots back at him.

“You’d take him, wouldn’t you?” Joshua asks Ephraim, nudging Tethys to pay attention to the answer. “He’s relatively tall, a smart-ass, pretty good at, like, cooking food I guess. Uh, he’s also…” Joshua fumbles with another compliment, scrutinizing an increasingly irritated Innes. “Um…”

Tana picks up on what exactly is happening and decides to spare her brother the embarrassment.

“Yeah, anyway,” She interrupts Joshua. “All of you are probably exhausted. Why not get this toast started so we can all head home?”

“Good idea,” L’Arachel claps her hands. “Marisa. Gerik. Aid me in collecting everything.”

“Roger that.”

“Wha…?” Marisa groans. “Why me?”

“Because I said so.”

They scatter and swiftly prepare everything. Their occassional toasts are nothing too special but Rausten’s boss insisted on it being a team building activity. Especially around the holidays, when they’d all go their own ways to spend time away with their families and whatnot, returning afterwards with renewed motivation. Although that wouldn’t be the case this year on account of aforementioned financial problems, mostly on their insistence rather than L’Arachel’s. She’d promised them time off during the summer, so it was an even exchange.

Speaking of L’Arachel, she passes everyone a cup, playing the role of a gracious host. Reaching Ephraim, she gives him a particularly hard stare.

“You’d best be appreciative. This sparkling is imported all the way from Jugdral.”

“ _More like the supermarket down the street_.” Innes mutters under his breath, earning a snort from Marisa and a choked laugh from Joshua.

“Thanks,” Ephraim takes it. “Honestly not the biggest fan of wine anyway.”

“Really? Why?” Tethys asks curiously. “Too refined for your tastes?”

He laughs.

“Definitely. Too pretentious. Can’t stand the taste either.”

“You want some water?” Gerik jerks a thumb at Innes. “Lightweight over here taps out too quick so it’s all we give him.”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Innes growls. “I can do whatever I want.”

“Except hold your alcohol.”

“I _choose_ not to hold it. There’s a difference.”

“Like how you choose not to drive?” Ephraim raises an eyebrow. The rest of the room erupts into unconstrained laughter. Even Tiki giggles along, watching her brother’s face flush with indignation.

“ _How dare you—_!“

“Who wants to make the speech?” Tana does her best to save him, bless her kind soul. What a great sister. Maybe Innes should make an effort to show his appreciation more often. “L’Arachel, don’t you usually do it?”

“I’ll give it up this once,” She says. “Gerik?”

“N-No thanks,” He clears his throat. “I’ll leave it to you kids.”

“Hm…” L’Arachel glances around the room. She stops on Tiki, who’s waving her hand in the air, begging to be picked. “Child of light. Are you up to the task?”

“YES!” She cheers, holding up her cup. “OKAY EVERYONE RAISE YOUR CUP! You too Nessy, come on,” The group follows her direction as she steps towards the middle of their little circle. “Ahem. Everyone did their best so everything is going to go super well and we’re gonna make lots of money and be happy. Um, cheers!”

Everyone claps. Tiki bows with a flourish, not one to shy away from positive attention and praise.

“I think I’m crying,” Joshua rests his head on Innes’s shoulder. “She’s so inspirational.”

“Cry on someone else.” Innes shoves him away, sipping at his very delicious water.

“You’re so mean.”

“ _Yes. I am._ ”

The nights ends on a pleasant note, for the most part. They all go their separate ways, full intending on showing up to work again tomorrow with the same tenacious spirit. Innes is throughly exhausted, but the night isn’t over for him. Tiki would never forgive him for insisting they head straight home and, even though he’d seen the lights display more times than he could count, he’d have to deal with it.

“You look like hell,” Ephraim decides to so kindly say about him when they’re outside, tugging his coat closer. Tana is in the middle of wrapping Tiki’s scarf around her neck, listening and nodding along to her excited babbling. “Those are some real nice raccoon eyes ya got there.”

“What a way with words you have,” Innes snaps. “Perhaps I should make an effort to compare you to different wild animals as you so enjoy doing yourself? I’d think a boar suits you quite well.”

“At least choose something cool,” Ephraim says. “I only compare you to cute stuff.”

“I do not see how raccoons are in any way, shape or form ‘cute’.”

“You kidding me?” Ephraim regards him with surprise. “You ever see a raccoon? They’re adorable! They’ve got the whole bandit look going on. And their tiny little paws! _Their paws_!”

“They’re also propagators of disease and eat literal garbage.” Innes responds dryly.

“Dude. Innes,” Ephraim shakes his head. “Okay. What animals do _you_ think are—? Wait. Never mind. I think I understand. You did take that naked mole rat thing in,” He shudders. “Your sense of what is and isn’t cute is unreliable and skewed.”

“I’ll be sure to tell Frelia of your stupid and idiotic opinions. She’ll grow to resent and despise you, as she should.” Ephraim could shut his dumb, wrong mouth. Frelia was the _pinnacle_ of beauty and charm. The way she sought him out in the morning and curled up beside him, following Innes like a stalwart companion. Her soft meows and how she’d sit on his lap whenever he was particularly on edge was—

She was _very much adorable_. _Ephraim could shove it._

“Whatever,” Ephraim scoffs. “Your tastes are weird,” His words seem to remind him of something, because he holds up the bag in his hand and digs around it. “By the way. Got you a little something.”

“It’s not a raccoon is it?”

“You wish,” Ephraim rolls his eyes, holding out a smaller bag. “Here.”

“I didn’t get you anything.”

“I don’t _need_ anything. This was last minute, anyway.”

“I’ll repay you.”

“Like I said, don’t need it,” Ephraim’s lips quirk at Innes’s stubbornness. “But thanks for the thought. Go on and open it.”

Innes hesitantly takes the bag, reaching inside to reveal its contents.

Ephraim has never seen a flatter expression on his face.

“You’re welcome,” He says smugly. “I think I picked out something great.”

“…”

“Hm?” Ephraim blinks, confused by the lack of reaction. "What's up?"

Innes doesn't say anything, only flips the figure in his hands over, fingers running over the fabric of its clothing carefully. It's strange, because he looks almost softer, his gaze relenting in its sharpness.

"This is..."

"Before we came, I met up with Tiki and Tana. Shopped around a bit and the kid said it looked like you. I thought so too so...yeah."

"This looks nothing like me."

"Don't deny it. It does."

"Hmph," Innes avoids meeting his eyes. "Thank you, I guess."

"Uh, you're welcome?" Ephraim had meant it as more of a joke than anything else, but if the present was well-received then...That was all right, too?

Innes places it back in it's bag, instantly reverting to his usually self.

"I'll return the favor. I dislike being in anyone's debt."

"You really don't have to."

"I've decided to."

"Nessy! Hurry up!" Tiki whines, stomping her feet. "We have to hurry! Tell Ephraim to go home and eat bûche de Noël with Myrrh already!"

"You heard her," Innes says. "Until whenever."

"Yeah. See ya."

The three siblings walk away, chattering amongst themselves. Ephraim watches them go, confused and just a little curious.

Well, whatever. If Innes actually liked his gift, that was fine, too.

He sets off to go pick Myrrh up. He wonders what she'd say to a little bread pudding along with the bûche de Noël. Watching Tana and Tiki eat theirs up had given him a bit of a craving for it.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit late for a Christmas equivalency chapter but yay! Rausten's gonna be so successful.  
> (Until I write an AU of this AU where Innes works at Renais and he and Ephraim become an unstoppable duo and there's heavy angst between Innes and L'Arachel and it culminates in them being best friends again lol no I can't)
> 
> As a note, I'd like to say that updates are probably going to be a little slower. I'm kinda buried in schoolwork and that gets in the way sometimes. Don't worry, though! I'm pressing on with this.  
> Thank you so much for your patience!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	10. Cultivate the Date (Palm)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Innes and Ephraim go on a not-date.

Innes makes good on his word.

“Are you free this coming—“ He glances down at the calendar on his fridge. It’s unicorn themed. A pretty and long eye-lashed mystical horse stares straight into his very soul every time he passes by. Joshua thought it was hilarious to purchase these things for him. “—Sunday?”

“Wanna take me out for brunch?” Ephraim replies. Innes notes he sounds slightly distracted.

“Do you even know what brunch means?”

“Of course I do. It’s a lunch between bros. Everybody knows that.”

Innes doesn’t deign that statement with a response. Instead, he focuses on the sound of clattering and mumbled cursing.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Ephraim sighs. “Trying to unclog the drain. Myrrh poured papier-mâché down the sink.” There’s a muffled apology Innes presumes to be the perpetrator herself, followed by Ephraim’s insistence on it being all right.

“It was an accident,” Myrrh says into the speaker. “I didn’t mean it.”

“If it makes you feel better, once when we were younger, Tana and I had an argument so she flushed one of my toy trains down the toilet,” Innes recalls the incident with little fondness. He loved that train. “When the plumber found it, he was incredibly confused.”

“Were your parents mad?”

“We were both reprimanded and told under no uncertain terms that we were never to flush our toys as a means of reprisal ever again.” More on his father’s part than his mother’s. She was too busy laughing at Thomas the Train’s contorted and deformed face.

“I’m sorry about your train,” Myrrh sounds genuinely grief stricken by his story. What a silly girl. “Oh! But you wanted to take Dad for brunch, you said? I think that’s a good idea. He needs to socialize more.”

“Does he now?” Innes asks, amused by her statement.

“Yeah, that’s what grandpa says.”

Ephraim’s response is inaudible but it doesn’t sound very positive.

“Yes or no?” Innes asks, tapping his foot impatiently. “Do you want to socialize with me or not?”

“I always want to socialize with you.”

“All right then.”

“Actually, let’s make it a thing. If it’s all right with you, Myrrh can come over while we’re out and spend some time with Tiki.”

“Does she want to?”

“I’d like to!” Myrrh assures him.

“Understood. I’ll inform her. Good luck with your plumbing.”

He hangs up, but not before hearing two surprised screams and what is presumably water spurting everywhere.

 

* * *

 

The awaited day arrives.

Innes knows he doesn’t _need_ to do any of this. It’s unnecessary and Innes understands Ephraim isn’t the type of person to hold anything over anyone.

The look on Tana’s face when he asks she look after Tiki and Myrrh tells him it’s probably a bad idea (on account of how smug her smirk is) but Innes does his best to ignore it because it doesn’t _mean anything_.

“Afternoon Nessy,” Ephraim says after Innes opens the door, yawning and rubbing away the sleepy tears at the corner of his eyes. Perhaps he’d slept in the entire morning? Myrrh greets him politely as he makes room for her to enter. She’s immediately ambushed by an ecstatic Tiki, already going on a mile a minute about what fun they’ll have. “Ready to head out? Since you just had to pay me back.”

“Don’t make me sound desperate. I clearly recall you saying you didn’t have anything to do today.”

“True. But consider this,” Ephraim points to his phone screen, the device clearly displaying 3:00 PM in bold font. “We could both be sleeping in and that’s a gift in and of itself.”

“That’s hardly early.”

“On a day off, it kinda is.”

Innes bristles. To think he’d put his time and effort into arranging this meet-up! If Ephraim was going to be dismissive, then maybe he shouldn’t have shown up at all!

“If you didn’t want to come you should have said as much,” Innes huffs, turning away. “Go back home and sleep if you’d like.” He shuts the door and stands there, unmoving.

“Nice.” Tana comments, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Invite him out and leave him hanging. You’re a master at seduction.”

“Don’t question my decisions.”

“Innes?” Ephraim’s muffled voice reaches them. “Are we going or what?”

“You should,” Myrrh tells Innes, pity in her expression. “He’ll be sad if you don’t.”

Innes is a merciful man. He lays down the ground rules, Tana rolling her eyes the whole way through his clear, precise instructions for dinner and eventually leaves with Ephraim.

“You have a car?” He asks, eyeing the rather expensive looking vehicle warily. “Did you steal this?”

Ephraim snorts.

“Yeah, right before we came. Myrrh helped me shake off the cops,” He opens the passenger door for Innes. “M’gentleman.”

“ _Gross._ ”

“I figured getting one would be useful,” Ephraim says to him once they’re on the road. “The bike is finished up but it’s real annoying having to ask someone else to pick Myrrh up because of my preferences. I’ve still got it but I’d rather drive this around.”

“I see.” Innes fidgets in his seat. There’s something distinctly uncomfortable about being in something so pricey. What if he accidentally breaks the door handle? Or scuffs up the interior? “It’s…nice?”

“Okay. Now what do you really think?”

“It’s a bit gaudy.”

“There it is,” Ephraim chuckles at his response. “We’ll have to agree to disagree when it comes to our taste. I thought it was awesome the second I saw it.”

“I’m not saying it isn’t.” It makes Innes wonder exactly how Ephraim could afford to buy an exuberant vehicle on such short notice. Especially on their salary. Unless Renais’ employees were simply paid more than Rausten’s.

He doesn’t ask, though. That would be rude.

“Y’know, you really didn’t have to do this. It’s not as if there’s anything I actually want.”

“I would not say I wanted what _you_ gifted _me_.”

“Really? You looked pretty all right with it,” Ephraim hums thoughtfully. “It surprised me.”

“That’s because…” The rest of Innes’s words are mumbled.

“What?”

“It’s from…”

“You’re doing that on purpose,” Ephraim frowns. “If you don’t want to talk about it—“

“ _It’s from a show I watched as a child._ ” Innes grits out, seemingly ashamed to admit it.

“Oh. That’s probably why Tana said she recognized it.” Ephraim nods. They drive in silence for a few moments before something clicks. “Wait—“

“ _Don’t say it._ ”

“Oh my god."

_"Don't you dare."_

_"Innes._ _You—_ ”

“ _Don’t say it._ ”

“Is that why you—” Ephraim grins. If that wasn’t adorably nerdy, he didn’t know what was. “You wanted to look like that guy, didn’t you?”

The varying degrees of red Innes’s face goes through is concerning, but this latest discovery is too amusing to pass up. Ephraim takes a quick glance, his smile mirthful as Innes struggles to come up with a response.

“I was a _child_. That’s what children do.”

“You aren’t anymore.”

“Shut up.”

“What kind of show was it?” Ephraim decides to ask. What sort of children’s show could have impacted Innes enough to model his appearance after it? “I’d guess educational.”

“No, it had little to no educational value. It taught me nothing practical,” Innes answers, staring straight ahead. “They constantly screamed about friendship and bonds and I thought it was idiotic.”

“It kinda sounds like you hated it?”

“I did. It was stupid,” Now that he had some foresight, Innes figured it was mainly because he’d never really had many friends when he was younger. The show probably only served to amplify his bitterness and frustration at seeing a group of close friends fight and defend the world as one unit. Looking back, maybe it was because _he_ wanted that. Wanted to be understood and appreciated and encouraged to be better and to do the same to people who respected him in return. “Its only redeeming factor was the hero’s rival.”

“Yeah?”

“He was constantly standing in their way. He would always make things worse due to his hubris and insistence on one-upping the main character. The hero never once begrudged him for it, strange as that is, and would openly suggest he join them. Which was idiotic but that was the hero’s personality. The rival never did, not even in the movie. The closest instance was coming in at the last minute to give the hero the one last push he needed to defeat some kind of inter-dimensional time and space tearing creature—" Innes blinks, surprised at how convoluted the plot really was. " _Something like that._ It probably makes less sense now but I recall coming out of the theatre asking my father what those terms meant and he admitted to sleeping through the entire thing. Tana couldn’t answer me either because she was too focused on having to use the bathroom after drinking the entire jug of soda.”

"They have movie theaters up in snow land?"

"Yes. We also lived by candlelight and rode around on caribou. _Stop being a moron_."

"Sorry, sorry." Ephraim holds his fingers up defensively. "You've got to teach me your Archanean ways. Let's visit one day, even. I'll let you treat me like a dumb tourist."

"Tempting, but no. The flight all the way there is much too long for a casual vacation."

"How many hours?"

"Eighteen, I believe."

"Damn."

"It's a trial."

Ephraim nods before recalling their previous conversation.

"I bet tiny Innes wasn’t very happy about not getting answers.”

“No, I was not. I told my mother when we got home but she only laughed and said we could go watch it again together. We did but I forgot that I even cared about it so I never got a definitive answer. It didn’t make much sense anyway.”

“What about the rival guy?”

“Eventually it’s revealed he’s some sort of high-ranking nobleman from the empire the heroes protect. And then it’s revealed he’s the actual heir to the throne. He’s frustrated because he wants to grow into someone capable of protecting his people, but constantly finds himself being outshined by the hero, who the people hold in high regard. He wants to be better than him, to prove his worth, but fails again and again. There’s a particularly good episode, where he demands a duel against the hero and loses. His people mock him for it, jeering and questioning how he shares the same blood as their previous rulers. He solemnly gives up the crown to the hero and disappears,” Innes waves his hand about. “To be brief, the episode is about the hero learning how difficult it is to rule and getting to know his rival better, through the various residents of the palace. Despite his arrogant demeanor, the servants and council people hold him in high regard for his work ethic. They criticize his lack of amiability but for the most part, the consensus is that he’s an incredibly competent individual, which contrasts completely with the loud and brash behavior the hero witnessed.”

“What ends up happening?”

“Crisis strikes. I cannot remember what, but everyone panics. The hero does not know what to do. The rival appears at the last possible second and cleans up the mess. He makes to leave but his people cheer for him to return,” Innes frowns. “That part always infuriated me. How quickly they went from insulting their leader to praising him the moment he did something to benefit them.”

“Hella fake.” Ephraim says. Innes nods.

“The hero gives him the crown and tells him he’s a worthy individual who deserves to wear it. And then of course the rival takes it and all is well.”

“Would you recommend watching it?”

“Don’t. It’s absolute garbage barring a few episodes,” Innes responds. “That’s probably the only one I enjoyed.”

“I can see why,” Ephraim understands how that same philosophy radiates off of Innes. His insistence on improvement and challenging himself. Ephraim doesn’t know why, but knowing that he may have contributed a little to that gives him a certain sense of pride. “Show it to me sometime. I wanna know what baby Innes liked watching as a kid.”

“I told you I hated it.”

“Which is why you were invested enough to style your hair after your favorite character? Good thing you’re both kinda blonde, huh? Didn’t have to dye it or anything.” Ephraim doesn’t bother dodging the punch Innes aims at his arm. It doesn’t hurt in the slightest and, well, if he finds the both mortified and infuriated expression directed his way adorable, he doesn’t say it.

 

 

They finally make it to their destination. Innes shuts the door carefully, wincing at the fingerprints he leaves behind. Yeah, expensive, fragile looking things weren’t for him.

“Don’t worry about it,” Ephraim notices his concern as they walk towards the entrance. “Come on.”

“This is…”

“Yup. Laser tag.” Ephraim giddily steps inside the facility, holding the door open for Innes. They step inside and Innes takes in the entire building. It’s a large complex with multiple floors, various corridors stretching across to what he presumes lead to different activities. Arcade games are scattered everywhere, multi-colored lights and futuristic music playing over the speakers. “I thought instead of buying me something, we could have some fun together. Ever play before?”

“Never.”

“It’s simple.” He explains the basic rules of the game. If Innes has it right, it’s essentiallysome sort of battle royale-esque competition where players tag one another with the instruments provided. Interesting. He’d see how it went.

Innes gives Ephraim a flat stare when he pays for both of them.

“You being here is more than paying me back,” Ephraim says when he notices. “It’s an honor, really.”

“If you say so.” Innes observes the scene. People of all ages wander about, awaiting the next match or engrossed in some game or another, excitedly chatting. He feels slightly out of place, not one for these sorts of activities or games.

“Don’t underestimate the kids,” Ephraim warns, glaring at one child in particular. He gets flipped off in return. “They’re savages. Absolute brats. I got bit once.”

“That’s unsanitary.”

“Aren’t most kids?” Ephraim adjusts his vest. “It’s gonna to be a free-for-all in there. On the field, we’re enemies. Remember that.”

“I will.” Innes watches the entrance as the previous group exits. This was new to him, but he’d try his hand at it. If he were being honest, Ephraim’s excitement was contagious.

 

* * *

 

“Sorry Ross. Better luck next time.” Ephraim shrugs nonchalantly, smirking at the boy who glares at him. Never mind the fact that he tended to annihilate Ephraim every other time.

“Whatever, old man. You’re still lame as hell.”

“What your mouth, brat. I’ll tell your dad.”

Ross flips him off once again before scampering off.

Another point. Ephraim had managed to rack up quite the score. He was sure to win if he kept it up, but it seemed as though not many players remained in the first place.

He nabs a few more as he navigates around the darkness, evading the colorful neon lights just enough not to be spotted. There are groans of frustration and a couple gg’s and Ephraim is totally steam-rolling everyone. He can't help being so talented.

He wonders where Innes is, though. Ephraim hadn’t seen him at all after their initial separation, which lead him to believe that he’d somehow gotten out early on. It’d be funny to tease him about it if that was the case, but it made him question whether Innes would even want to come back afterwards. Would his pride allow it or would he whine about the second time being the charm?

“Ephraim.”

He stops in place, slowly turning to face the direction the voice came from.

Innes stands before him, his vest displaying Ephraim’s exact point total. One more hit and he’d win.

Then again, the same could be said for Ephraim.

“Wow. You’re a natural, huh?”

Innes shrugs nonchalantly, his posture relaxed, the laser in his hand pointed at the ground.

“I understand why you would enjoy this. I’m glad you brought me.”

“That right?”

“Yes. I’ve had fun. Although,” Innes pauses, lips pursing slightly. Ephraim doesn’t notice himself follow the motion. “I believe this would be a better experience if we could work alongside one another. It’s always the opposite with us.”

“Working together?” Ephraim finds the behavior odd. Maybe he was just in a really good mood? “I mean, we can do that next time if you want.”

“Could we?” Innes smiles softly. Ephraim swallows, his face suddenly feeling a bit too warm for his tastes. What the hell? _What the hell?_ "I’d like that.”

“Uh, yeah. For sure. That’d be awesome.”

“Good,” Innes steps closer, gently placing a hand on his arm. Ephraim has to steel himself against acknowledging it. “You’ve opened my eyes to another interest. I’m afraid I don’t usually have much time to spare for activities like these, so it’s a pleasure to be able to spend time like this with you.”

Ephraim’s arm feels like it’s on fire. His face like it’s melting.

Was this how it felt to receive Innes’s open approval? His compliments? Because he wasn’t sure how he felt about the possibility of melting into a puddle of confused gelatin. “I, uh, I feel the same? Like, it’s a pleasure for me too? You're cool and all and I just--I know we don't always see eye-to-eye but it's great?” What is he even saying? What had Innes done to him? “Being here and hanging out with you?”

Innes laughs, a pleasant sound. Ephraim thinks he’s seeing stars.

“Good. That’s nice,” He glances down at the floor. “Your shoe is untied.”

“What?” Ephraim looks down. “Oh, you’re right. Hold up a sec.”

It’s at that moment, lacing up his shoelaces, laser set to the side on the floor, that Ephraim realizes something. It’s a sudden thought, plopping into his mind with the swiftness of lighting crashing down onto Earth. So abrupt. So unanticipated, he’s unsure of why it hadn’t occurred to him earlier.

Then again, the muzzle of Innes’s laser pressed against his back wasn’t exactly how he pictured this exchange ending.

“Yes. So much fun,” Innes’s smirks, his true motives finally revealed. The duality shouldn’t be surprising, but Ephraim was always weak to a pretty face and smile. “I’m sure you realize this hurts me much more than it’ll hurt you.”

Ephraim can’t even come up with a clever response as Innes scores his last points and the resounding siren for his victory echoes throughout the stage.

 

* * *

 

“Stop your pouting.” Ephraim does in fact, _not_ stop pouting. He spares him a betrayed look before staring out the window, finger tapping idly on their table. Innes sighs, resting his cheek on his palm. He hadn’t thought much of his actions, but clearly Ephraim thought otherwise. “It was a tactical decision. Don’t feel too bad about it.”

“You’re really something else if you think being nice to me is a tactic for winning,” Ephraim huffs petulantly. “In case you were wondering, yeah, it works like a charm.”

“I can give you the certificate if you’re that upset about it.”

“I don’t want it. I already have one.”

“Then what, oh what, can I do to make it up to you?”

Ephraim pretends to think hard on his request.

“Take me out for dinner one of these days.” He decides on. “Or better yet, make me dinner. And make sure you wear a cute apron and—”

“—I could _also_ not associate with you anymore.”

“Now don’t do that. You’re always so hasty with negotiations.”

“You give me plenty reason to be.”

“Fine,” Ephraim exaggerates his shoulder slump. “Killjoy. A normal dinner would be enough. Mark your calendar because this time I’m demanding. Candlelight and everything.”

“I’ll be sure to conveniently forget and have you starve the day of.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Ephraim raises his hand, flagging down their waitress. “Natasha! Just get us both the usual.” Innes glances back in time to see a blonde woman nod, before disappearing behind the counter.

“You’re familiar with the staff?” He asks.

“We go back,” Ephraim informs him. “Guy who owns the place was my mentor. Still is. Taught me everything I know,” He shrugs, the corner of his lips pulling upward. “I drop by a lot. Especially when I feel like clearing my head.”

Innes could understand why. While initially wary when Ephraim invited him into the pub after their afternoon adventure, the outside a picture of seedy and suspicious, his concerns were for naught. The atmosphere was casual and relaxed, patrons conversing quietly while soft jazz music played in the background. It strangely suited Ephraim.

“Alone?”

“Usually. My other friends are too loud,” Ephraim responds. “Lyon comes with me sometimes but other times, it’s nice to just sit down and _not_ have to worry about talking to anyone.”

“I suppose _even you_ have moments like that.” Innes murmurs, watching a bartender pour someone their drink. It’s a pinkish color, an umbrella resting to the side of the glass. Tana would probably like it.

Ephraim laughs quietly.

“Yeah. I guess.”

Innes wonders what the other man looked like, sitting by his lonesome and thinking through whatever worries plagued him.

“You were mentored,” He repeats suddenly, eyebrows furrowed as he pieces together Ephraim’s previous statement. “Is that the basis for your skill?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you not receive formal schooling in the culinary arts?”

“No,” Ephraim confirms his assumption. “Been winging it this entire time.”

“I see.”

“I haven’t, like, let you down or anything?”

“What?” Innes frowns. “No. Why would I feel that way?” What a dumb conclusion to make. “It’s not like you need it to cook.”

“I’ve heard otherwise.”

“From who? I’m not going to say it isn’t insightful, but that doesn’t mean you’re any less talented for it.”

“Why Innes,” Ephraim holds a hand over his heart, eyelashes fluttering in an over-exaggerated fashion. “I wasn’t aware you thought so highly of me.”

He’s deflecting no doubt. Maybe it’s a touchy subject for him. Despite knowing this, Innes gets embarrassed anyway. Stupid Ephraim.

“Of course I think so,” He huffs, crossing his arms against his chest defensively. “It isn’t just anyone who can best me at what is second nature. You should already understand that.”

Ephraim only chuckles at his response.

“You’re right.”

“When am I not?”

“Do you really want to start this argument?”

“You fear losing it to me, no doubt.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I could say the same to you,” Innes waves his hand flippantly. “I urge you to ignore what others say in reference to your profession and competence. It won’t get you anywhere and they are hardly worth your time. Focus on yourself.”

“I know,” Ephraim sighs heavily. “It’s just…hard to, I guess. Especially when it’s…someone who’s supposed to be telling me what you just did.”

“A family member?”

“My old man.”

“…Your father?” Innes looks down at his hands. “That’s…I’m sorry.”

“Don’t make that face. It’s not as if we hate each other or anything,” Ephraim reassures him. “He sees things one way and I’m…”

“Stubborn.”

“Exactly.”

“I’m not understanding the problem, though. Why would he take issue with you not attending culinary school? You’re a chef regardless of it.”

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“It’s a long story,” Ephraim runs a hand through his hair. “Do you really want to hear it?”

“What did you order for us?”

“Why are you changing the subject?”

“ _What did you order for us?_ ”

“Lobster.”

“In a _pub_?”

“What is traditionalism.”

“Fair enough. If that’s the case, I’m not going anywhere.” Innes leans back in his seat, startling slightly when the woman referred to as Natasha returns with two beverages.

“I’m sorry for the wait. Your food will be out shortly,” She informs them quietly. “Glenn always has trouble with lobsters.”

“He’s such a baby. Just throw ‘em in there.” Ephraim snorts. “How hard can it be?”

“Very tactful.” Innes says, accepting his drink with a thankful nod.

“You have the same problem?”

“No, but L’Arachel and Gerik do. We don’t serve crustaceans for a reason.”

“Thanks Natasha,” Ephraim smiles and Natasha nods, walking away and leaving them to their devices. “Anyway, what was I saying?”

“Your tale of woe and rebellion.”

“Okay. Well, in case it wasn’t obvious, this wasn’t always what I wanted to do. When I was younger, I didn’t know what the hell I wanted. Sometimes, I still don’t think I do.”

“Not exactly uncommon.” Innes was pretty sure Tana was currently undergoing a period of self-discovery for the very same reason.

“Yeah. Eirika was the one who was always cooking and helping out in the kitchen. The only thing I ever did was eat and compliment her over it. And because I didn’t know, I just…ended up doing whatever my dad told me to. I actually _did_ end up following in his footsteps for a little while. I studied business, got my degree, even though I hated everything about it, and got a job at my dad’s company.”

“He owns a business?”

“It’s…” Ephraim hesitates. “You ever hear of S&S…?”

Innes stares him straight in the eye.

“Are you serious?”

“Completely.”

“Okay. Well then,” Innes leans back, rubbing at his temples. _Of course_ Ephraim would be the son of the man who owned a _multi-million dollar company._ _Of course_ he would. That explained the car and--Well, not a lot else, _but still_. “Let me guess. He wanted you to inherit his position and you refused.”

“Right on the money as always.”

“More like I’ve bore witness to one too many television dramas.” Joshua would be eating this up if he were here. The man was a sucker for that kind of programming. “You said you followed in his footsteps for a short while.”

“I worked there as an intern and eventually as an employee after I graduated. I worked and worked and _worked_ and got to the point where I was waking up and hating going in. Hated doing financial reports and projections and dealing with people talking shit about me behind my back and then begging for me to put in a good word for them. It wasn’t for me.”

“When did you decide that?”

Ephraim actually laughs.

“I had this big presentation for a bunch of important investors and halfway through I just _stopped_. Straight up _stopped,_ looked at the clock and thought ‘ _What the fuck am I doing here?’_ Dropped everything and left.”

“You left in the middle of your own presentation?”

He nods. “I went directly to my old man's office, told him I quit and…we argued. He said stuff and I said stuff and it was _horrible_. I don’t think I’d ever been as angry as I was then. He’d already had problems with how I did things so that little stunt was icing on the cake.”

“Okay." Innes holds up a hand for him to stop his explanation, eyebrows furrowed. "Based on everything you’ve just told me, I’m going to go ahead and piece this together. Allow me.” Innes takes a deep breath before beginning. “You were an irresponsible party boy who threw caution to the wind because you felt as though that would fill the void your lack of ambition caused. You decided to work for your father because you were sick of living aimlessly, did so, grew tired because it wasn’t what you wanted either, fought with your father, traveled the world to find yourself, and discovered cooking was something you were drawn to despite how little thought you put into it before. Does that sum it up?”

“…Holy shit.”

Innes buries his face in his hands.

“I was guessing for half of that, you living soap opera. I cannot _believe this._ ”

“You should be a detective.”

“Please don’t tell me Myrrh is actually your illegitimate child and the mother left her with you because she couldn’t afford to give her the life she deserves.”

Ephraim doesn’t say a word.

Innes stares incredulously.

“ _You said she was adopted._ ”

“I don’t think I deserve to call myself her biological father. Adopted was the next best thing.”

"Why would you lie about that?"

"I do a lot of things."

“You’re a _mess._ ”

“I am.”

“But you’re getting better,” Innes sighs. “You’ve been getting better.”

“I’m trying,” Ephraim shrugs helplessly. “I was getting on pretty well with my Dad until recently. He tried to convince me to go back and it just reopened every can of worms I thought we’d worked shut. He called me a disgrace and disappointment. I said…” He pauses, his jaw tensing. “I said I didn’t ask to be his kid. That _he_ was the one who forced me into his life and that I never wanted to be part of his family. That he wasn’t my _real dad._ ”

Innes can feel the remorse in Ephraim’s words. He almost wishes he could go back in time to rip them away from Ephraim before he could say them.

“Ephraim, that’s…”

“Pretty fucked up.”

“I…It’s not my place but…I’m going to have to agree.” Innes stares down at the table. “Although calling you a disappointment was not warranted either. What a horrible thing to say to your own son.”

“I think he was worried. He just…wants what’s best for me, I guess. He’s probably right.”

“ _No_ , he’s _not_ ,” Ephraim looks up in surprise at the severity in Innes’s voice. “You’re _not_ a disappointment. Stop being stupid.”

“I feel better already.”

“I’m being serious. You should both have a conversation about it.”

“ _You’re_ telling _me_ to _talk things out?_ ”

“I hate misunderstanding and being misunderstood. It wastes time and causes unneeded worry. I’m only suggesting the most logical course of action. If your father is anything like you, then he’s probably fretting over what he said as well,” Innes looks away. “You’re not a disgrace, either. Choosing to forge your own path isn’t something to be ashamed of.”

“You really think so?”

“I don’t say what I don’t mean.” Innes clicks his tongue. “And I mean it. I think you should take pride in what you’ve accomplished. You’re doing what you want after much indecision, you work at a well-respected establishment, your peers respect you, your daughter is happy—”

“—My rival thinks I’m awesome—”

“—Don’t push your luck.”

“It was worth a try,” Ephraim says, letting out a heavy sigh. “I’ll try to talk to him. I guess.”

“What you mean is you’ll stall and put it off until it becomes a problem you can’t avoid.”

“You know me so well.”

“Do what you want.” Innes says.

“I will. And you’ll probably hear me whine about it if it goes bad.”

“And if it works?”

“I’ll piss you off with how smug I am.”

“Why is it that I lose either way?”

“Because I have to win either way. It’s the nature of the universe don’t question it.”

Innes of course questions, because that is the nature of _his_ existence and it leads to ten straight minutes of arguing with Ephraim until they finally get their food and, _even then,_ it continues.

Arguing with Ephraim is easy. Dealing with emotional baggage is not.

But maybe that’s why Ephraim falls into step with him so easily. Not dealing with things is easier than dealing with them, but in Innes’s experience it tends not to end well.

So be it. He doubts Ephraim would decide to _not_ tell him after confiding this much with him to begin with.

And even Innes doesn’t know how to feel about _that_ , so he pushes down the strange sense of self-importance in favor of insulting Ephraim in the same roundabout way he always does, which doesn’t even work because Ephraim takes it all in _stride_ and Innes is left flustered and irritated.

They leave when the sky is dark and Ephraim has made a promise to stop by some other day of the week when his mentor is in. There’s squabbling in the back, Ephraim emerging with an annoyed expression and refusing to tell Innes what it was about.

“Stupid stuff and making sure I come by again. Duessel likes it when I help out. A shame he wasn’t here so I could introduce you.”

“You work even on your days off?”

“Sometimes. I want to learn. He’s got a lot to teach,” Ephraim says nonchalantly. “Making up for lost time, I guess.”

“I don’t see it that way,” Innes rubs his hands together to generate warmth. He was looking forward to spring after a seemingly eternal winter. “But whatever.”

“Hold up a sec,” Ephraim stops him, pulling off his gloves. “Here.”

“We’re almost to the car. It’s not—“ Ephraim doesn’t listen, because that’s what he’s good at, taking Innes’s hands and slipping them into the pair of gloves. “—necessary.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m warm-blooded anyway.”

“Are you comparing me to a reptile?”

“Maybe.” Ephraim dodges Innes’s hit, snickering as he grabs Innes’s wrist and leads him forward. “Come on. I’ll get you home before Tana chews me out for keeping you out too late.”

“And what would we do if she forbid us from seeing one another again.” Innes remarks sarcastically.

“I’d come by Rausten and we’d ride away into the night on my bike.”

“Dreadful. On something so classless and tacky? No thanks.”

“We could take the bus if it makes you feel better.”

“Shut up.”

Ephraim’s carefree laugh reverberates through the wind. His grip is warm. Innes doesn't know why he doesn't shake it off, only that he's cold and it's convenient and so what if Ephraim was warm and Innes had no objections to an extended period of time involving Ephraim not letting go of him? It didn't mean anything.

 _It doesn't mean anything_.

The chill of the winter breeze feels slightly less harsh the rest of the way to the car.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. It's almost as if Innes hasn't realized he's about to fall head-over-heels for Ephraim. Weird, huh?
> 
> So about the show Innes talks about. It isn't real but I kinda wanted to have him appreciate something that has the same themes as his original character in Sacred Stones. The rival is based on OG Innes and of course the hero is Ephraim. Since Innes isn't a prince with the fate of a kingdom resting on his shoulders in this, I wanted to have a little call back to it.  
> Also, nerdy Innes is adorable Innes.
> 
> For transparency's sake, Myrrh was originally going to be adopted. This was mentioned in a previous chapter. But then I thought about Ephraim's character in this, debated intensely with myself, and figured, nah with his past, it's likely he'd be a baby daddy. It doesn't really affect the overall story but I just wanted to let it be known I change my mind a ridiculous amount and work on patching up inconsistencies constantly.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	11. Expected Returns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A long-awaited arrival.

The shrill ringing of his phone awakens Innes.

It isn’t his alarm, he groggily recognizes. That is set to some other obnoxious tone to ensure he wakes up every morning. This has to be a phone call.

Half-asleep and more than a little annoyed at being called at such an ungodly hour, he reaches over to slap at the side table beside the sofa bed. Frelia stirs from her place on his stomach. He pets her with his other hand, earning her pleased purrs.

Grabbing his cellphone, not even bothering to open his eyes, he slurs a “ _H’llo_?”

“ _Good morning!_ ” A cheery voice greets. “Or should I say, good afternoon!”

“It’s—” Innes cracks an eye open to check the time. “4:45 in the morning.”

“What? Did I mess it up again?” The woman on the other end lets out a frustrated cry. “I was so sure this time! I’m sorry, love. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I was already awake.” Innes replies, struggling to keep awake.

“So considerate of Mummy’s feelings. My sweet little boy. Always looking out for everyone.”

“You praise me too much,” Innes sits up, holding back a yawn. “Were you calling for a reason?”

“To say hi, first and foremost. Hello!”

“Good day.”

“And second, to tell you we’ll be back by Friday! Grandpa’s all better. He’s all tired of us coddling him and whatno—” The call cuts out and goes static before returning. “—ello?”

“I’m here. Is the signal still atrocious?”

“More than ever,” His mother sighs. “I swear, when we get back, I am looking into getting a new service provider. ‘Quality international calls’ _my left foot_. It’s ridiculous.”

“No doubt grandfather isn’t being of any help.”

“I’ve had more than enough ‘back in my day’ speeches than I can count,” Innes can practically see his mother’s annoyed look. “Your father spent this whole morning insisting he upgrade his internet speed. You know how he is with keeping up to date with everything. And then your grandfather said ‘ _how about you upgrade your chess skills._ ’ And then your father turned to me and said ‘ _Naga, did you hear what he said to me?_ ’ And then I said ‘ _I mean it’s kinda true._ ’”

“He didn’t take that well.”

“He’s been sulking ever since,” Naga sounds incredibly amused. “I sent them out fishing to pass the time. That usually patches everything up.”

“They’ll be back as chummy as can be.” Innes says dryly.

“You know how they are.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Be nice,” His mother gently chides. “The only reason they argued was because your grandfather wanted to learn about the _‘fantastical technologies of the modern era’s youth_ ’ so he can see all of you on camera more often. Your father was explaining how to accomplish that, but they’re _them_ so it worked out about as well as you could expect it to.”

“Why doesn’t Xane set something up for him?” Innes’s cousin was a modern man, around his age, and posted one too many selfies on the gram. What excuse did he have to _not_ help out their grandfather?

“Xane is currently in Khadein.”

“Doing _what?_ ”

“A theatre job. You know how flighty that boy is. He’ll be back when he wants.”

“Bantu has the patience of a saint if he can deal with that man.” When they still lived in Archanea, Innes spent quite a bit of time around Xane. Which _actually means_ he spent a lot of time getting into _trouble_ because Xane was great at that and great at dragging Innes along with him. They’d had more misadventures than Innes cared to recall. Sometimes Tana would tag along and _that_ was when real disaster struck, because she and Xane got along a bit too well and Innes hadn’t built enough character at that age to politely back out of their harebrained schemes.

“He wants him to follow his dreams,” Naga explains. “I do, too. I’m so proud of you, my sweet baby boy.”

“I—“ Innes clears his throat at the sudden praise. “Uh—Thank you, mother. I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Naga laughs at his embarrassment. “But that’s the gist of it. We’ll handle getting home so don’t you worry about a thing. We’ll see each other on Saturday when I don’t look like death.”

“I’ll help those two start packing then,” Innes says. “I’m sure they’ll be relieved to have their rooms back.”

“And you yours.”

“Anyone would.” The sofa bed wasn’t exactly forgiving on his back, but he did what had to be done to accommodate his siblings. As if he’d ever let them take the couch. “We’ll see each other on Saturday.”

“Certainly. Take care! Mummy loves you!”

“And I you, Mother.”

Naga blows him a few more kisses before the call abruptly ends. They really _did_ need to change their phone company, Innes muses as he checks the time again. 4:55. He had a whopping five minutes before he needed to get up. He glances down at Frelia, still curled on his lap and flops down again. She nuzzles his stomach.

“Five more minutes.” Innes mumbles, closing his eyes for a quick power nap.

 

* * *

 

“Earth to space cadet, do you copy? Over.”

“Co-pilot to Earth, space cadet is lost in transportation. Over.”

“Earth to co-pilot, I’m not sure that’s correct. Over.”

“Co-pilot to Earth, of course you would say that. Over. What are you, a lit major? Over.”

“Earth to co-pilot, actually I’m a certified attorney. Passed the bar and everything. Over. Also, you can’t say over and then say something else and then say over again. What is the point of that? Finish your statement. Over.”

“Oh yeah, well—“

“ _Can you two stop that?_ ” Innes snaps at Joshua and Gerik, both who look infuriatingly unfazed by his harsh tone. He was folding napkins into swans which required effort and concentration and they _weren’t helping at all_. “Stop doing that across from me. Stand next to each other if you want to speak.”

“But half of the fun of conversation is you yelling at me to shut up,” Joshua whines, slumping onto him. “Where would we be without you yelling at me?”

“Literal hell,” Gerik offers, resting his chin on Innes’s head. “Because I sure as heck don’t have time to be wrangling you into shape.”

“Leave the difficult work to me,” Innes says sardonically. “Thank you so very much.”

“You’re welcome.”

“What are you all grumpy about anyway?” Joshua asks curiously. “You’ve got—What’s Tiki call it?”

“Great demon eyes.” Gerik provides.

“It’s grump monster face.” Innes corrects dryly. “And no, I’m not particularly ‘grumpy’ about anything. There’s a lot on my mind, is all.”

“Oh, same old same old?” Joshua sighs with relief. “Good to hear you’re purposely frying your brain worrying about everything like you always do.”

“It’s called responsibility.”

“It’s called being way too uptight for your own good. But what would silly old Joshy-poo know about that? That’s right, _nothing_. Because I am mellow ninety-five point five percent of the time.”

“What about the other four point five percent?” Gerik inquires.

“Overwhelming self-induced stress via scratch off tickets.”

“…I am going to fold this swan and forget you told us that.” Innes says, doing exactly that. Gerik raises an eyebrow.

“I thought those were supposed to be cranes.”

“If you do not mention it, L’Arachel may not notice.”

“She will.”

“Yes, and I will blame _you_ and she will believe _me_ because she is loyal.”

“That looks more like a _heron,_ ” L’Arachel’s sudden appearance shouldn’t startle him, and it _doesn’t_ , but her ability to do this all the time is nevertheless unnerving. “Close, but no cigar. We can say they’re different for the sake of diversity, though.”

“Such cleverness deserves appreciation.” Innes raises his hand and L’Arachel immediately high-fives him.

“Praising me to avoid trouble is what it truly means to be clever. You’ve done well, my dear Innes,” She gestures towards the front. “Putting that aside, I’ve come to inform you of a guest.”

“A guest?”

“ _Your eternal rival!_ ” L’Arachel practically sings. “Perhaps he’s here to challenge you to another duel? Or maybe a declaration of war? What if it’s to a rock, paper, scissors battle? The grandest of all games for dominance! Imagine the possibilities!”

“I’d wager he’s here to have a normal conversation,” Gerik laughs at their boss’s enthusiasm. “Though I’d be interested in watching a match of some classic Jehanna Holdem.”

“Same, man. Same.” Joshua agrees. “What do you think, Ness— _Ness?_ ”

Innes is already half-way to the front entrance.

He sees an ever familiar figure leaning against the door, tapping his foot rhythmically.

“Should I assume you have nothing better to do right now?” Innes asks, stopping a fewfeet away from him.

“Probably. I don’t think my boss would appreciate that if she heard, though.” Ephraim pushes off against the door, facing him. “I'll be quick. Just need some advice about something. You’re not in the middle of something, are you?”

“No.” Innes lies, because his fingers hurt from folding and from what he can hear from his position, L’Arachel is already ordering the other two into taking his place. _Excellent_. He should take advantage of Ephraim’s wandering nature more often. “What is it?”

"It's a question about these parent-teacher conferences. Do I have to bring anything? Like a fruit basket or something?”

“No, because that would be seen as a bribe. That’s not what you want.”

“So nothing?”

“No. Just yourself.”

“Cool. I’m kinda excited, to be honest.” Ephraim grins. “I get to show her teacher how competent and badass I am. Now she’ll get why Myrrh is, too.”

"You're going there to discuss her grades. Not demonstrate how far you can toss an iron weight," Innes sighs. "I'm not all that well-versed in these matters, but I would assume asking questions about how well she gets along with her classmates or whether she has trouble with a specific subject and if there is any extra academic help programs they offer if she does."

"Wait--Lemme get this down," Ephraim pulls out his phone and begins taking note. "Anything else?"

"Let's see...Maybe curriculum?"

"What even is that?"

"Never mind. You should be fine."

"You mockin' me?"

"I would never," He says in complete monotone. "Have fun with your conference."

“Aren’t you going?”

“Before I would have, but my parents should be back by then. They’ll be handling any of Tiki’s needs in the future.”

“Aww, must have been nice while it lasted. Playing house and all,” Ephraim teases. “Won’t be the same only hearing half as many  _Nessys_ from now on.”

“I’m sure you’ll more than make up for it at this rate.”

“I’m honored you’d pass the torch down to me, _Nessy dearest.”_

 _“_ It’s my pleasure, _beloved Rem-Rem.”_ Innes sneers. “If that’s all?”

“I think that’s about it. I'll text or call if anything." Ephraim pats his arm, his touch lingering a few moments longer than strictly necessary. "See ya."

"I--Yes." Innes nods, clearing his throat when he finally lets go, disappearing across the plaza again. He touches the air, still feeling the ghost of the other's grip.

Hm. Did that mean anything? 

* * *

 

Saturday arrives faster than Innes is expecting.

Tana and Tiki are packed by Thursday on account of his insistence on getting it done as efficiently as possible. By the end, his home looks strangely empty.

He hadn’t realized just how much of his sister’s things were strewn all over the place, from the kitchen to the living room. Even the corridors.

“Pretty eye-opening, huh?” Tana remarks, setting a hand on his shoulder as they take it all in. “You should get more stuff. Did it always look like you barely own anything?”

“I think.” Innes wasn’t one for buying in excess. He bought a table because he needed a table. That was how he approached shopping for mostly anything.

Now that he thought about it, perhaps he _could_ benefit from a few more decorative pieces. There was simple, and then there was _desolate_.

“That’s pretty sad.”

“It’s sad that I don’t splurge on things I don’t need?”

“I don’t think you _needed_ a gaming system, but you bought one anyway.”

“Touché,” He shrugs. He set aside money for the console every few paychecks. It _could_ be considered unnecessary, but he’d been using it constantly as of late. It hardly counted as a waste. Saved him on cable as well, considering he could pay a lower price to stream whatever he wanted and catch up on the news via internet. “Perhaps I can look into sprucing everything up a bit.”

“I think that would be a great idea,” Tiki pipes in. “Looks kinda…” She trails off, her hands weakly gesturing to their surroundings. “…Wait a sec. I’ve got just the thing,” She runs over to her luggage and unzips one of the compartments. Rushing back, she sets something down onto the coffee table. “There! Now it’s not empty!”

“One of your dragons?” Innes takes a look at the wooden carving. “You mean to keep this here?”

“As something to remember me by!”

“Something…to remember you by?”

“Yup! So you don't forget me!”

“Because that’s something that is going to happen?”

“I think.”

“…Tiki, you’re going back home across the city. Not even fifteen minutes away.”

“And?”

“It’s not as though we’ll never see one another again.” Innes replies, confused by her words. “It’s not necessary.”

“I mean, I know, but, um…” She bites her lip. “You’re always busy. I can’t always see you when you come to pick me up or when you get home or when we go out together or anything anymore,” Tiki shoves her hands into her hoodie pocket. “S’not like I saw you a lot before anyway. What if you _do_ forget about me?” She presses her lips together, looking down at her feet.

“I’m not—Tiki I wouldn’t forget about you that easily.”

“But how do I _know_ that?” His youngest sister insists. “Before, you didn’t come home a lot and you never really called and when you did you only talked to Mummy and Daddy and never really to me even though I really wanted to talk to you! They said you were busy and I know you are but I just wanted to say hello. It was like…like you didn’t even know I existed…”

Innes is stunned.Was this really how Tiki felt this entire time? Had he really made that kind of impression on her?

Honestly speaking, he never asked to speak to her because he assumed she had better things to do than to sit down and have a conversation with the older brother she hardly ever saw. What would be gained from a conversation between an elementary schooler and a man who spent most of his time reigning in coworkers who resembled headless chickens the majority of the time?

But maybe _that_ was the problem. _He_ hadn’t made the effort. Tiki was a _child_. It wasn’t _her_ responsibility to reassure him. That was _his_ job. To be a decent sibling and make sure she knew how much he cared about her.

He’s always been mediocre at best and atrocious at worst at it, though. It was a miracle Tana had stuck around long enough for them to grow closer. When they were younger, the only hobby they shared were arguments and barely concealed resentment and strife. As for Tiki, she was born as he approached adulthood. The time they spent together was incredibly limited back then, as he had schooling and work and she was a literal _baby_.

He could have visited more often, but going home never felt quite right at the time. Innes was never obligated or told to value results or earnings or anything of the sort, yet any time he trudged back to see his parents it felt as though he hadn’t accomplished nearly enough to warrant their respect. Especially when he and L’Arachel were only barely making it by all those years ago.

His pride truly was his worst enemy. Tiki had simply witnessed the brunt of its burn.

Now how to get across what he actually felt?

As with most poorly timed interruptions, this one comes in the form of phone call. He glances at the device sitting innocently on the table.

All three siblings stare at it.

“Um…” Tiki points to it. “Someone’s…?”

Innes sees his boss’s name and contact picture, but silences the ringing.

“She can wait a few minutes,” He says, gathering his nerves. It was time to be revoltingly saccharine and open with his feelings. How terrifying. “Tiki, there is something you need to understand about myself and my actions,” He kneels so they are at eye level. “I do not always say things in the manner they should be said nor behave in a way that clearly illustrates my true opinions. I do not know why I am this way, just that I am, and it can cause problems for those around me.”

“Okay…?” Tiki tilts her head. Innes doesn’t know if she’s understanding what he’s saying but she’s still paying attention so that’s good.

“You shouldn’t feel as though you cannot understand how I…how I f-fe-fe—“ He chokes out. Oh _god this was excruciating_. He can see Tana holding back her laughter at this expense from the corner of his eye. The absolute sadist. “—h _-how I feel_. Whatever my actions in the past, they do not reflect my sentiments appropriately. ”

“Nessy wait.” Tiki holds up a hand to stop him. “Wait please.”

“Yes?” Had she understood the depths of the meaning of his words? And so quickly? Maybe it would save him the trouble of finishing this haphazardly put together and, frankly, embarrassing speech.

His sister stares him right in the eye, expression grim.

“…Can I go get a dictionary? ‘Cause I think I only understood half of what you just said.”

This time Tana _does_ burst out laughing, holding her sides as tears stream down her face. She collapses onto the sofa. Innes holds his head in his hands, shoulders shaking slightly.

“N—Nessy is—“ Tana coughs, her giggles uncontrollable. “He-He’s trying to s-say that—“

Oh no. Tana would _not_ be solving this problem for him. _Innes was a grown man._ One that did not require younger sisters taking pity on his emotional incompetence.

_He won’t let her clean this mess up._

_“I love you.”_ He blurts out. “I’m sorry if you ever felt like I didn’t. But I do and I’ll make more of an effort to make it clear.”

There. He said it.

When he finally chances a look at Tiki’s face, she’s practically shaking with excitement.

“You do?” She asks quickly. “Really?”

“Yes I—“

“I love you too, Nessy!” She laughs happily. “You’re the bestest big brother ever!”

“The _best.”_ He corrects.

 _“You’re the best big brother who’s also a dictionary ever!”_ She hugs him. Innes awkwardly pats her back.

He cannot believe he hadn’t done something as simple as this before. He really was an idiot.

“T-That’s so cute. I think my appendix just burst.” Tana looks pained, short bursts of laughter escaping her lips. “ _Help me._ ”

“After laughing at my expense?” Innes scoffs. “I don’t think so.”

“Myrrh told me you don’t need your appendix.” Tiki adds.

“You two are terrible!”

-

Later on, his door is knocked with a jolly rhythm. Innes assumes his father is in a particularly good mood.

He opens up and is greeted by a strangely serene expression on his mother’s face. He glances at his father, who only gives him a look as if to say ‘play along with her’.

“Mother.” He decides is an appropriate greeting for what’s to come.

“Innes,” She responds, her voice soft and graceful. She’s standing in an uncomfortable sort of position, her hands held back, chest puffed out proudly. Like a divine figure, a deity who transcends space and time. It’s more than a little ridiculous. He resists the urge to roll his eyes. “My son. You look in good health. As though the western winds have blown across these lands and blessed you with—“ She stops, shoulders shaking. Innes _knew_ this was coming. “W-With—!” She heaves, finally cracking, her serious poise disappearing completely, as if it were never there at all, replaced instead by a jovial demeanor. “ _Oh—I can’t!_ I said I’d do it and thought it would be funny but I can’t! _My sweet baby boy!_ ” She lunges forward and cups his cheeks, smooshing them together and showering kisses all over his face. “My precious little _Neffy!_ I missed you so, _so_ much! Look at you! _So cute_! I could gobble you up, my tiny-whiny-boy! Mwha-mwha-mwha!”

“Yes, mother, I missed you as well.” Innes responds, returning her vice grip of an embrace.

“Your hair, though!” Naga exclaims, fingers dragging up his nape and touching the significantly shorter locks of hair. “What happened? Change of style?”

“Adaption.” Is all he says. His mother nods, somehow understanding what he means.

“Naturally. You look great, darling! Stupendous! Healthy. _Sturdy_. I couldn’t ask for more.” She steps away from him, marching into the apartment. “My _girls!_ Oh, I could _cry_! Tana! Little Tiki!” She practically sobs. Naga lifts Tana into the air and spins her around. "Sweet, precious Tana! You're as radiant as always! Getting your education and paving the way for future generations of tailors?"

"You got it!" Tana replies cheerfully, hugging her mother once she's set back onto the ground. "It's been rough but I'm getting there."

"You'll most certainly be the best there ever was," Naga turns her attention to Tiki. "And not to forget my snuggle monster!"

"The scariest one of them all!" Tiki cries out, roaring and taking the pose of a clawed creature. "I'm gonna getcha! You've missed a whole lotta hugs and snuggles. You can't escape me!"

"My princess!" Naga lifts her up and swings her around, Tiki's giggles filling the apartment.

Innes leaves them to their moment, turning his attention to his other parent.

“Father. It’s good to see you.” He closes the door after him.

“Likewise,” Hayden smiles, ruffling his hair. “It does me good to see you well. I couldn’t help but worry you were running yourself haggard trying to juggle everything.”

“I handled it about as well as I could,” Innes hears excited squeals. Then a distinct crash followed by hushed whispering. He hopes they didn’t knock anything too important over. Not that there was much left in the first place. “It was all right. We were fine.”

“I didn’t doubt it.” His father smiles. “You've done well, son. I'm proud of you.”

"I was only doing my duty," Innes looks away bashfully. "I would never back down from my responsibilities."

"I know you wouldn't. But you've done a lot. Feel free to pass the baton over again."

“Gladly.”

“I heard that!” Tana shoves Innes’s shoulder. “Stop whining to Dad. We were the ones who took care of you, not the other way around.”

“What a lie I’ve been caught in.” Innes rolls his eyes.

“It’s not good to lie, son.” Hayden scolds.

“I refuse to believe it!” Naga exclaims, holding Tiki like an airplane whilst making airplane sounds. Innes sees broken pieces of a vase poorly swept under his rug. No matter. It was cheap anyway. “No son of mine _can’t_ get away with a simple lie!”

“Don’t _promote it, Naga_.” Hayden tells her incredulously.

“Nessy’s not a liar!” Tiki jumps to his defense, still being held in mid-air. “He said he loved me! And that can’t be a lie!”

 _“You did?”_ Naga gasps. _“_ And you didn’t wait until I was here to record it? _How dare you? Do it again and let Mummy record it!”_

It hasn’t even been five minutes and Innes is already exhausted.

 _This_ was why he moved out.

After catching up, Tana and Tiki take their things and return home.

He feels lighter.There are plans for outings and dinners and Tiki demanding a least one day a month for taking her to the park or some other activity. Innes thinks he can fit in a few more, but decides not to mention it. A surprise was in order every once in a while.

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t think that for long.

Because when he calls L’Arachel back after all is said and done, he’s greeted with an incredibly pleased and diabolical lilt in her voice.

“What has happened and how am I involved?” Is the first thing he asks.

“Funny you should ask,” She cackles. Innes waits with bated breath. “ _Soooo_ you know how I like to keep up with the times? What’s vogue and whatnot.”

“Speak on.”

“ _Welllll_ , there’s this really popular trend happening on the restaurant scene. It’s based on an equally as popular reality television concept. You know the one.”

“I _don’t_. And I doubt you do either. You _don’t_ _watch_ reality television.”

“That doesn’t matter! Take a guess!”

“Is it—“

“It’s a chef swap!” L’Arachel squeals out, unable to contain herself. “Instead of swapping a spouse, I’m swapping an employee! I contacted Eirika and she said it sounded like a fun idea, so we coordinated and guess who’s getting swapped?”

“I can’t believe you sold Joshua out.” It was nice knowing him. Innes would name a spatula in his honor.

“He actually volunteered you.”

Scratch that. It was not nice knowing him. _Not nice at all._

“What is this even in service of?” Innes asks, pinching the bridge of his nose. What were _any_ of them supposed to gain? Wasn’t L’Arachel against espionage in the first place?

“I thought it would be an interesting way for you to expand your horizons. You’re always so open to improvement and learning from others, I assumed you would appreciate the opportunity.”

“What are you really after?”

“Must you always overthink things,” She huffs out an irritated breath. “If you _desperately have to_   _know_ , I read about a specific technique used at Renais for roasting meats. I contacted Eirika about it and she was more than willing to inform me about it. However, I quickly realized simply hearing about it would be insufficient and suggested I send someone over to learn about it in detail. She agreed, brought the trend up, and told me I could borrow a helping hand while you spent time there, as you’ll be aiding them for the rest of the week as well. It’s an equal exchange, I’ll have you know.”

“But why must it be _me_?”

“Because I trust you to learn efficiently,” She states as if it’s obvious. “Joshua is talented but requires more trial and error to finally catch on. Gerik cannot leave and Tethys needs to remain here if we’re going to make it through an entire week.”

“And you can’t because…?”

“It’s full time cooking for me too!” She responds giddily. “Bring back insight and knowledge. Represent Rausten with pride and grace.”

“Banking on my quench for betterment I take it?”

“I would never do such a thing. I mean, it would make you a _total_ _coward_ if you backed out now, but I’m sure your ego will understand.”

“You conniving serpent.”

“You easily manipulated sheep in wolf’s clothing.”

“Nice analogy.”

“Thank you.”

“Am I getting compensation for this?”

“Information and a sticker.”

“I require more than that.”

“Fine. I’ll make you employee of the month.”

“And?”

L’Arachel sighs. “We get to go see the movie _you_ want to watch this time.”

“I’m glad you see things my way.”

It looked like he would be an employee of Renais for a week.

He could only feel pity for whoever was sent Rausten's way.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Innes was brought up in a household of four sunshine filled cinnamon rolls how is he so emotionally repressed  
> That's our boy, though. We love him for it.
> 
> I know this chapter was more of a bridge between the next, but not to worry. Next time, fun swapping shenanigans! 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	12. Trading Spaces (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swapping brings more than bargained for.

“I would like to extend a warm welcome to our newest crew member for the week. This will likely be a new experience for all of us but I’m sure we will all take something of value away from it. To start off, why don’t you introduce and tell us a little bit about yourself?” Eirika gets the ball rolling, sending Innes an encouraging smile. “If that’s all right with you.”

“Of course,” Innes clears his throat. “My name is Innes—“

“ _It’s him,”_ The blonde standing across from Innes whispers to the man beside him. _“The one he said. That day? Remember?”_

 _“Not the time.”_ The other man hisses back _._

“—and I am here to learn from your techniques. I’ll do my very best not to inconvenience any of you while I accomplish my goals. Thank you for having me.”

“Anything of note you’d like to share?” Eirika presses. “Maybe a speciality or something we should know?”

“I suppose I’m adept at Archanean cuisine. That’s not something that is served here, however.” Innes tries to think of something else to say. He wasn’t about to spill his entire life story but Eirika likely wasn’t looking for anything too comprehensive in the first place. “I am rather well-rounded in all aspects. Feel free to station me wherever is more convenient.”

Eirika seems satisfied with his words. She claps and the rest of the group follows her example.

“For formality’s sake, I’ll go next. My name is Eirika. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to approach me. I’ll do my best to make your stay as comfortable as possible.” It’s refreshing, really, how normal she seems. There is something to be appreciated about someone who grounds everything around them. “Next is…?”

“My name is Seth,” A towering red-head takes initiative. His demeanor is stern, yet at the same time there’s a certain reliability to it. “Head chef. I expect diligence and maneuverability in the kitchen. That applies to you as well. No excuses.”

“Of course.” Innes replies. Seth gives him a hard stare before nodding.

“Yo, the name’s Forde,” The blonde from earlier gives him a pleasant grin. “It may seem stuffy, but we like to have fun around here. An anonymous source has told us, honestly, basically nothing but really insignificant information about you. Despite that, I’m positive you’re a cool guy so I’m sure we’ll get along. Let’s rock this popsicle stand.”

“I’m Kyle,” The man beside Forde says. He seems tired, if the bags under his eyes are anything to go by. Innes can relate. “Not much to say but I hope you’re good under pressure. Things gets rough around here. Can’t afford for anyone to crack under it all.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Um, I’m Franz.” A meek and gentle young man says bashfully. Innes is struck with the irrational urge to protect him. “I’m—Uh—I’m still learning—er—I still have a lot to learn so, um, I’m sure you’ll teach me more than I can teach you and—It’s nice to have you!”

“He’s being modest,” Forde chimes in. “That’s my little bro but he’s wayyy better than me already. He’s got potential. You’ll see.”

“All right.”

“Lute,” The same server from when he and L’Arachel stopped by the very first time greets him. She’s looking down at her phone, not the least bit interested in what’s going on around her. “I wait tables and stuff.” She stops there. Innes assumes he won't be getting much else out of her. They move on.

“And I’m Tana!” His sister since birth introduces herself with a wink. “I’m going to work you so hard, you won’t know what hit you!”

“I look forward to it, my clear and obvious superior.”

“With that, I’m sure you’ll all show Innes the ropes around our kitchen,” Eirika gives them a pointed look. “Are there any questions?” No one says a word. “All right. You’re dismissed.” She leaves swiftly, a confidence and unshakable determination set in her every fiber. It reminds him of L’Arachel. Excluding the eccentric oddities, of course.

“Nice to have you on board,” Forde is the one who approaches him first. “Kyle was right about things getting a little hectic around here most of the time. If it’s too much, feel free to fall back on us and we’ll take care of any mishaps.”

“While I appreciate your kindness, it’s largely unnecessary.” Innes replies. “I do not planon any such thing occurring.”

“ _Someone’s confident_ ,” Kyle mutters under his breath, smothering a yawn into his hand.

“I suppose our next course of action should be a tour of our work area,” Seth turns to walk away, gesturing for him to follow. “It won’t do for you to bumble around like a confused child. There’s a certain reputation of quality we maintain and I do not intend on having that tarnished over this act of kindness on Eirika’s part.” He stops at the doors to the kitchens, looking over his shoulder. There is no kindness in his eyes, only cold authority. “There will be no second chances. If you understand that, I will permit you entrance.”

“I understand.”

“Do you?”

Innes smiles politely. He reminds himself that Renais hasn’t achieved what it has in such a short period of time by slacking off and cutting corners. To be successful, it required discipline and immense adherence to detail. If Seth wanted competence and complete domain over the craft, he would be getting it ten fold.

“Why don’t you judge that for yourself, sir?”

Seth’s frown twitches slightly. He enters the kitchen without a word, the door shutting quietly behind him.

“ _Yoooo,_ ” Forde slaps his shoulder amicably, following after the head chef. “Already standing up to boss man? Way to go!”

“It’s your funeral.” Kyle remarks, but there’s an amusement filled quality to his tone as he disappears behind Forde.

“Drama and tension already,” Tana at least is taking everything in stride. She bumps his arm. “Tune in to this episode of, chef swap! The battle for acknowledgment! Will Innes prove himself, or will he return home with nothing? Personally, I’m rooting for you.”

“That's a great comfort.”

She grins, squeezing his hand before running off, pulling Lute along with her.

“Um—!” Franz approaches Innes, hands clasped together. “Don’t think badly of Seth! He’s, uh…he’s very serious about his job. He isn’t the best for no reason. He may be a little strict sometimes but…but Seth is a really good person! He looks out for us and never gives up, even when I mess up really badly— _you probably don’t care about this_ —Let’s get inside so you know where everything is. Once we get started, there won’t be time for explanations!” He holds the door open for Innes, a tentative smile on his face.

They don’t seem like a bad bunch, Innes decides, walking past Franz. He would need to accustom himself to the more formal atmosphere, but that was simple enough to accomplish. In fact, he was looking forward to it.

Perhaps there was something to be learned from stepping out of the comfort of Rausten and into the unknown of Renais.

 

* * *

 

“Mr…Ephraim was it?” L’Arachel’s squints, glasses slipping down her nose. Ephraim doesn’t recall seeing her wear them before. Maybe she only needed them for reading? “You claim to have worked in quite a few unique establishments. Is this accurate?”

“Yes?” Ephraim replies, fiddling with the neckerchief around his collar. Not his style, but apparently it was the mandatory uniform. Annoying, but manageable. “They’re listed there.”

“ _Ree-nays_? What even is that?”

“It’s pronounced _Renais_. And it’s across the street. You’ve been there before.”

“I’m sure,” L’Arachel crumples the sheet of paper up and, along with the glasses, tosses them over her shoulder. They fall to the floor with a crack. Okay, so she _didn’t_ need them. “Resumes are overrated anyway.”

“Why did you ask for one then?”

L’Arachel ignores him. “In case you haven’t realized, Innes is one of my top employees,” She gestures towards the chart behind her. The names of all of Rausten’s employees are listed and next to them, an empty space. Ephraim notes with a hint of pride the area beside Innes’s name is filled to the brim with stickers, some even overlapping with the wall. “He leaves a great gap to fill. You think you’re capable of doing that? Being better than him? Earning more stars that he did? Because I’ll have you know he’s singlehandedly cleaned me out of _at least_ ten sticker books.”

“I think I am,” No offense to the guy, but Ephraim believed he was more than capable of handling anything Innes could _ten times over_. Call him over-confident. Ephraim didn’t make claims he couldn’t back up. “He’s great, but so am I.”

L’Arachel breaks character for a moment, eyes practically sparkling with awe.

“This is what it mean to be _rivals! The competition! The arrogance! The insistence on superiority!_ ” She places her hands on her cheeks and squeals. “I’m so jealous! Innes is such an ungrateful brat! How dare he not appreciate you more!”

“I know, right?”

“Anyway,” She clears her throat, attempting to piece together her serious persona. It doesn’t really work, on account of her inability to stop smiling. What a cute person. “When my right-hand man left for the core, he left his position vacant in good-faith. See to it that you do him justice, _Ree-nay_ boy.”

“It’s _Renais_.”

She ignores him one again. “Eirika promised me you were amazing. I’ll take her word for it _soooo…_ ”

The door to L’Arachel’s office suddenly slams open. Confetti and streamers explode into the room, drowning Ephraim in a deluge of colors. Booming dubstep follows shortly, a fitting soundtrack.

“WELCOME TO OUR CLUB!” Rausten’s entire crew exclaims, standing by the door. Tethys and Joshua emerge from the middle, pulling out ribbons from seemingly nowhere to showcase an impromptu dance routine.

Both are actually _really good_. Tethys is hypnotizing and Joshua follows her lead perfectly. They sway to the music with finesse. It’s hella fresh.

That is, until Joshua gets tangled in his ribbon and knocks into a filling cabinet, tripping over his feet. In his struggle, he attempts to steady himself on L’Arachel’s desk, but only succeeds in bringing stacks of paperwork along with him. Tethys keeps on dancing, striking a pose without him.

Ephraim is left feeling strangely refreshed.

“We like to have fun around here,” L’Arachel explains proudly. “Welcome aboard and, please, enjoy your stay.”

“Can you help me up?” Joshua asks, words muffled as he lays face down on the floor. “Please?”

Ephraim is about to when a loud pop has him nearly jumping out of his skin. He turns towards the source. Marisa stares blankly down at the party popper in her hand, face covered in confetti.

“It got stuck.” Is all she says.

Gerik places a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“It’s okay. You did good, kid. You did good.”

Ephraim remains optimistic. They were a fun bunch. It looked like they knew how to have a good time. _He_ liked having a good time.

That wasn’t to imply he disliked his workplace. It was the complete opposite. He loved working at Renais. Sometimes things just got a bit too overbearing for his tastes. Keeping a professional facade was exhausting, especially as they kept gaining more and more notoriety. Not to say it wasn’t great, because it was _amazing_. He was incredibly proud of Eirika for putting all of her effort into what she loved.

Thing was, Ephraim far preferred the anonymity of a hole in the wall to the strict stuffiness of fine dining. Working at Rausten sounded like a blast in comparison. A welcome break. From what Innes told him, everything tended to be casual to the max. He could get behind that one hundred percent.

It did make him wonder though, what Innes was so worked up about half of the time.

“ _Drama queen._ ” Ephraim murmurs, his laughter inaudible. He faces everyone with an excited smile, ready to begin the day. “Thanks for having me! Promise you won’t hold me back, all right?”

“Isn’t he _great_?” L’Arachel asks her crew with a squee, pushing him forward. “Now let’s get you started!”

“Wait,” Ephraim hops over Joshua who still hasn’t gotten up, and maneuvers himself around L’Arachel’s desk. “Any one got a sticky note or something? I’d like to make a little change.”

 

* * *

 

“Got it all down? We’ve got everything organized for efficiency so it shouldn’t be too difficult to remember.” Forde says, not relenting in his effort to accommodate Innes. He’d taken the responsibility upon himself while the rest of Renais’ crew prepared for the day, strangely enthused. Or maybe he was always like that? Innes didn’t know.

He saw it more like Seth not wanting to bother, Kyle conveniently finding something else to do, while Franz insisted he wasn’t the correct person to ask.

Innes appreciated it anyway. Forde seemed the most approachable of the bunch, as he practically exuded laid-backness and calm.

“I can respect the alphabetization,” Innes responds, taking in all of the clean and precise labeling and storage methods. Such beauty was once in a lifetime. “How do you maintain this orderliness?”

Forde laughs.

“How _don’t_ we? Eirika is pretty insistent we don’t get sloppy so Seth is always reminding us to put everything in its place. It’s real satisfying to look at but I gotta admit, it’s a hassle sometimes. Especially at the end of the day.”

“The struggle to keep things in order is ever a hard-won battle.” Another reason Innes tried not to purchase much. He didn’t have to stress over cleaning up if he barely owned anything. The most he had to deal with lately were Frelia’s toys, which she inadvertently dealt with by hiding them around the apartment, completely out of sight.

“Got that right,” Forde nods in agreement. “Next, we should probably go over the menu. Can’t really help if you don’t know what we serve.”

“I’ve already studied it in great detail,” Innes comments offhandedly, his attention still occupied by how pleasant such an organized space can be. “It’s not necessary.”

“You memorized the whole thing?”

“It only made sense to. It wouldn’t be prudent to come here unprepared.”

“Where’d you even get one?”

“Online. The internet is an amazing utility.” He could have asked L’Arachel to ask Eirika to send him one, but Innes had a feeling she would’ve told him to take it like a man and embrace his life on hard mode. Asking Ephraim also would have been a viable option, but it honestly slipped Innes’s mind. He wasn’t even aware the other man wouldn’t be around until L’Arachel texted him a picture of him replacing Innes’s name with his own on the employee of the month chart that morning (something Innes would be fixing the moment he stepped back into Rausten _how dare he claim Innes’s stickers as his own_ ).

“You’re pretty on top of things, aren’t you?” Forde says, clearly impressed. Innes doesn’t understand why. He only did what made sense. “Seth should come around when he sees that.”

“I’m not concerned about it.” Whether anyone liked him was irrelevant. He was here to learn.

“Heh,” Forde seems amused by his response. “I figured you’re not the type to be. Still, if anything comes up, don’t sweat it. I’ll back you up and help tide boss man over. Just ‘cause you’re experienced doesn’t mean we can dunk you in the deep end and expect you to swim. Gotta build some team synergy, y’know?”

“Certainly,” Color Innes impressed. Forde struck him as the type not to notice details like that. Perhaps it would be in his best interest not be too hasty in his judgements continuing on. Renais had to be highly rated for a reason and that reason most certainly involved its employees. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Forde replies pleasantly. “Actually, since we’ve got time, why not take a look around the place? Maybe it’ll help get you in the groove.”

“I was already shown around by Eirika.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to get another look,” Forde says hastily, gaze flickering between some point behind Innes and back. He’s about to ask about it, cut off almost instantly.

“What was that Kyle? You can handle potato peeling duty? Golly, that sure is nice of you!” Forde exclaims, guiding Innes away. “I’ll show the new guy around some more. Can’t be too familiar with your workplace, y’know? Right Innes?”

“I suppose that would be beneficial…” Innes trails off, glancing back in time to see a murderous expression on Kyle’s face. He blinks, eyes narrowing at the sudden realization. “You…you’re attempting to get out of your duties, aren’t you?”

“Figure me out already?” Forde grins, winking conspiratorially as they make a quick exit. “Don’t tell me you don’t promote the idea of slacking off? I was going to show you my special spot for it and everything.”

“Even if I did, it hardly matters,” Innes deadpans. “I’m not going to report you for it. Unless you would like me to?”

“Would you believe me if I told you I think we’ll get along just fine?”

“Absolutely not.”

Forde only laughs.

Whatever his intentions, Forde does a good job at leading Innes around the premises. He’s shown the inner hallways and where they lead, the dining area which consists of a great many more tables than Rausten’s set up (it makes sense considering it’s a large building but still), and he even goes into detail about why everything is specifically colored the way it is.

Eventually, Forde runs out of places to show him in his quest to avoid actual work and they decide to return to the kitchen. They almost make it, but something catches Innes’s eye enough for him to take pause.

“This painting,” He mentions, stopping in front of one particular portrait hanging on the wall. It’s a beautiful evening landscape, shades of orange, reds, pinks, and purples staining the sky in a cohesive manner. Innes has seen plenty similar renditions, but this one has a rather warm and homey atmosphere to it. “Is rather lovely.”

“You think?”

“Yes. The others are as well,” He noticed them as they went, each one individually deserving of praise. “Were these purchased?”

“I actually painted them,” Forde informs him, standing to his right. “It took a lotta work to get the colors to blend well, but I managed. It’s a little embarrassing, honestly.”

“Why?”

“Watercolor’s my thing but this isn’t exactly my best work.” Forde grimaces, as if he can see every flaw and error as clear as day. Innes has little eye for art of this nature, but he still thinks it’s well worth praise.

“I would beg to differ, but I hear an artist is their own worst enemy,” Innes says. “You’re clearly talented.”

“Thanks,” Forde smiles. “It’s what I wanted to do since I was a kid. Not really profitable, though. I found that out the hard way.”

“A pity.”

“It’s fine. Commissions are a thing and I can always do it for fun,” A rather optimistic viewpoint, Innes notes. “Eirika was nice enough to pay me for it and I had a good time getting it done. That’s a win-win if I’ve ever seen one.”

“Is there a reason for your initial interest?”

“I…don’t know actually?” Forde purses his lips in thought. “I just remember being a kid and liking all kinds of art. Give me a rock and I’d figure how to make something out of it. Franz always liked watching me paint and my mom loved it whenever I made anything for her. We hardly had any space to hang them up by the end.” He smiles at the memory, mind elsewhere. “That’s when I figured, ‘hey this is actually pretty great’ and I never stopped. May not pay the bills, but it’s a nice way to wind down.”

“Everything has its place,” Innes says after a moment. He’d always known what he wanted to do with his life and thankfully it worked out for the better, but even he’d dealt with moments of frustration where he questioned if maybe he should have gone down a different path. It was difficult to think otherwise when he had nothing to show for all the hard work he put into doing what he wanted. “Perhaps it’s simply a matter of time.”

“I would sure like to believe that Innes.” Forde admits solemnly. “But even if it isn’t, it’s not like I hate my job now. I’m doing well for myself. Besides, even if painting was my profession or whatever, I have a feeling I’d start to hate it. Maybe even resent it. I don’t ever want that to happen. And if that means doing little side jobs that don’t amount to anything, well, I’m fine with it.”

“An interesting viewpoint.”

“The two cents of an average Joe,” The artist jokes. “Take what you want away from it.”

“Let’s see…” Innes contemplates his answer. “My temporary coworker Forde is equally as lazy—“

“You’re on the money.”

“—as he is hopeful. I’m sure whatever decisions he makes, he’ll find happiness and success.” He ends with. “How was that?”

“Heh, pretty good.” Forde grins. “I’ll place my bets on your judgement.”

“Lucky for you I tend to be rather accurate.”

Forde is a good man, Innes decides, even after he _is_ shown his secret napping spot tucked away inside a supply closet. He’s somehow managed to sneak a pillow and blanket in for maximum comfort. Innes doesn’t ask how or why because he’s admittedly impressed by the dedication put into _not working_ it exemplifies.

“Has anyone discovered this?” He asks, watching as Forde closes the door carefully. “Have you ever been rightfully chastised for this irresponsible behavior?”

“Nope,” Forde responds proudly. “The key is not getting caught. _I know_ , I know. Unbelievable concept, but manageable. I know this place like the back of my hand, which helps with getting back to where I should be whenever Seth or Eirika come calling.”

“Are your coworkers aware?”

“Franz would never rat me out and Kyle—“ Forde shrugs. “I think he gave up trying to make me take anything as seriously as he does _ages_ ago. Keep your bosses close, but your squad as done as possible.”

“It seems I have much to learn.” Innes offers flatly.

“If you’re that enthusiastic about it, let’s go peel some potatoes before Kyle pops a vessel. I can feel his negative energy from here.”

“Is that an artist thing?”

“It’s an ‘I know the guy a little too well’ kinda thing,” Forde pauses to give him a thoughtful look. “Maybe you can understand? If you catch my drift.” He winks.

Innes _doesn’t_ but Forde sure seems to think he does. He nods.

“Of course.”

“Cool.”

 

* * *

 

“—And this is our sink where we wash dishes. You’ll be here today.”

“Here?”

“Yes. Any complaints?”

“Not really? Was expecting to do a little more than this, is all.” Looks like Ephraim was being demoted to busboy. A bit misleading, considering how jolly L’Arachel was about getting him to work only a few minutes ago. And he was so pumped about beating Innes at his own game, too. “Sure I can’t do something else?”

“Mr. _Ree_ -Nay, I don’t think you quite understand how we do things around here,” L’Arachel clicks her tongue, arms folded against her chest. “Everyone does a different job every day of the week. Those are the rules.”

“No one’s designated to anything?”

“Of course not,” She gives him a scandalized look. “That’s asking for tunnel vision. If you want a rich understanding of culinary culture and cuisine, you need to have perspective on all aspects of the kitchen. It’s necessary to understand that someone who washes dishes is as important as the person who cooks them. Neither can function without the other, which is why we all rotate our positions.”

“How does that even work itself out?” Ephraim asks, genuinely interested in how they avoid mix-ups if nobody is ever just doing what they’re proficient in. Sounded like one big mess if you asked him. “Is everyone here great at everything?”

“Certainly not. But how can we be great at something if we never give ourselves the opportunity to try?”

“That’s some pretty out there new age management.”

“Perhaps, but I do as I like. In any case, you won’t need to worry about it today. You’re on cleaning duty after all.” L’Arachel claps her hands, gaining the rest of the team’s attention. “I’ll be stepping out for a short while everyone! I have a few errands to run. I should be back by opening. Take care of Mr. Ree-Nay.”

“My name is _Ephraim_. And it’s pronounced _Renais_.”

“That’s nice, Mr. Ree-Nay. Good-bye for now.” She’s gone in a flash, not even giving him the chance to attempt to correct her again.

“She’s always like that, in case you were wondering.” Joshua tells him, playing with what looks like a can opener. “She likes to role-play so just ignore the fact that she already knows who you are.”

“Sure,” Ephraim has met stranger people. L’Arachel is far from the most eccentric. “What kinda numbers are we talking today?”

“Eh, it’s usually pretty chill on Mondays.” Joshua replies. “Shouldn’t be too hectic. Hey, you interested in quality music?” He abruptly changes the subject, pulling a card with his social media handles out. Does he carry those around normally, Ephraim wonders. “Check out all my accounts. I’ve got awesome beats on them and post bi-monthly. Feel free to donate, as well. I’m always looking for sponsors.”

“Okay?” Ephraim takes it, raising an eyebrow at his image of choice. “What’s with the mask?”

“I like to keep a certain amount of anonymity. Interested in supporting?”

“Hearing your music first would be nice.”

“I’m guaranteeing its quality, man. Even Innes can’t resist my sick remixes! He practically _begs_ for me to give him a discount!” Joshua’s expression becomes sly. “I bet if you bought a limited edition he would be, oh _I don’t know_ , maybe _a bit_ more invested in you. Maybe think certain _positive thoughts_ about you. Maybe even wanna _fu_ —“

“—Okay that’s enough,” Gerik nudges Joshua on the shoulder, giving him a pointed look. “Stop soliciting. It’s not allowed on the premises.”

“ _But Gerik—_ “

“ _No._ Don’t pressure the rookie into breaking the rules.”

“Fine.” Joshua pouts. “You’re no fun. Or good for business.”

“I’m all for legal transactions.”

“Boy scout. You hella manly boy scout. Did you know this guy can crush a watermelon with his bare hands?” Joshua feels the need to inform Ephraim. “Because we all went to the beach this one time and he straight up annihilated it in front of us. It was glorious. How do you feel about that? Do you think you can pull that off? Are you buff? Do you lift? Because Innes likes a guy that can—“

“You are _really_ persistent, my guy.” Tethys intervenes, turning and shooing Joshua away from the kitchen. “Go help Marisa set the tables. I can hear her suffering from here.”

“Just trying to help a bro out is all.”

“I’m sure he wouldn’t appreciate it at all,” Tethys points to the door. “Out.”

“Okay mom,” Joshua sticks his tongue out. “Think about it, Ephraim! Don’t forget to listen to my tunes, follow, rate and subscribe to my channel. Turn the notification bell—“

_“Out.”_

Joshua finally leaves, flipping them all off.

“He’s funny,” Ephraim comments, giving the card one last look before tucking it away into his pocket. “I don’t what the hell he was talking about, though.”

“He’s a great guy,” Gerik remarks fondly. “Cares a bit too much, is all.”

“Also not much of a quitter. He’s got his sights set on a music career,” Tethys smiles. “He really is talented, though.”

“I’ll check him out. Gotta feeling Innes ain’t really begging for discounts, though.” Or much of anything for that matter. He probably made sales associates feel obligated to give him the lowest possible price available with one glare and a carefully constructed argument. “What your two’s deal? End up here purposefully or was it by chance?” Ephraim found getting to know his coworkers better always helped move things along better.

“I was a lawyer,” Gerik tells him. Ephraim can picture it. He can also picture the guy’s poor suits tearing into bits and pieces with the slightest of movements. Joshua was right about him being built. “Got tired of that and wandered around everywhere trying to figure out what I wanted. Did all sorts of weird jobs to find that out. Ended up here when I met the boss at a discount store. She thought my ‘eye for quality tongs’ was phenomenal. Chatted me up a bit, got me to spill my guts, and here I am. Not the least bit educated in cooking and in charge of these insolent brats. Been winging it ever since.” Ah. That probably played a part in why Innes didn’t seem to mind Ephraim admitting he hadn’t went to school for it.

“What about you?” Ephraim turns to Tethys. “What’s your story?”

“Wanted to make it in show biz but ended up crashing big time,” Tethys shrugs, as if it’s only some distant memory and nothing more. “I liked to dance but that wasn’t paying the bills or feeding my younger brother. Innes, the absolute _silly billy_ —I dropped a dollar. Probably the only thing I had in my wallet at the time. That boy ran a good fifteen blocks to get it back to me. Was huffing and puffing and holding it out like it was _normal._ Like it was something everyone did for complete strangers. I called him an idiot,” Tethys recalls fondly. “I was so bitter and angry and not sure why anyone would do something like that. Not for me. _Never_ for me. And he just looked at me and said ‘I don’t see what about this is idiotic. What’s idiotic is how careless you are’ and _I lost it_. Was laughing so hard I was crying. Or maybe it was the other way around,” She shakes her head. “He charmed me. You don’t meet the most infuriating kid ever and _not_ try to figure them out. I convinced him into buying me lunch and we spoke and he asked if I was unemployed and at that point, I didn’t care about hiding the truth so I said, yeah. I am. I’m dirt poor and have this kid I need to feed and keep in school. Maybe it made him think of Tana and Tiki. I’ll never know. So he brought me here. L’Arachel was instantly on board with it. They taught me everything from the ground up and this is where I’ve been ever since.”

“It’s almost funny, in a weird way.” Gerik laughs softly. “Those two worked their asses off to follow their dreams. They’re so passionate about this place and what they want to accomplish. Can’t go a day without them both screaming about some new recipe or newly discovered fruit or the latest Diced episode and yet, they ended up collecting a bunch of burn outs who knew absolutely nothing about something as simple as frying an egg to help them run a restaurant. And they’re _still pulling it off_. _That’s_ what I call amazing _._ ”

“I’ll have you know my prior experience and knowledge allowed me the ability to fry two really runny and scrambled looking sunny side eggs.” Tethys jokes with a grin. “If our hero and prince saw potential in _that_ , there’s probably nothing they can’t flip on its head and work out.”

“They’re really something.” Ephraim murmurs, unable to contain his own smile.

To think that Innes and L’Arachel, the same two people who bicker and go on undercover missions to rival restaurants and fanboy about television shows from their childhood are the same two people who built this much on their own. Probably poured hours of blood, sweat, and tears into making Rausten into what it is. Into helping the people who work alongside them find their place after adversity and failure.

There’s something special about that. Something special about _him_.

.

.

.

Um, _them._ Not just _him_. L’Arachel, too.

“You almost wouldn’t believe they’re the biggest dorks this side of Magvel,” Gerik says with a laugh. “Welcome to theirfun house. Enjoy your stay.”

“Thanks. Hey, so can I—“

“You’re not getting out of dish washing,” Tethys cuts him off before he can continue. “We’re running on a chaotic schedule here.”

Ephraim sighs.

“ _Got it_.”

 

* * *

 

“You understand exactly how to push a man’s buttons.”

“Praise? From you? Is hell freezing over?” Ephraim’s infuriatingly amused voice responds over the phone. “ _You_ really know how to make a guy feel great.”

“It was meant to be derogatory.”

“It’s a good thing I’ve got a masochistic streak, then.”

“You better put my name back before you leave,” Innes demands, slamming a tin of cat food down onto his kitchen counter. Frelia meows at his feet, eyes adorably big. “Or you’ll pay dearly.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Call it what you wish.”

“Can’t say I feel threatened,” Ephraim yawns, the absolute animal. How dare he yawn when Innes is _clearly coming across as menacing_? “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’ll even earn you a few more stars. Might even double—no _triple_ —the amount, because I’m a kind person. Don’t you appreciate how supportive I am?”

“I don’t appreciate anything about you.” Innes growls, arranging Frelia’s food onto her plate in the most aesthetically pleasing way he could. He wouldn’t have her eating a dish haphazardly thrown together. _Absolutely not._

“Ice cold. That’s no way to treat a friend.”

“I wasn’t aware I considered you one.”

“I’m crying.“ There’s a pause, followed by hushed conversation. “— _fine._ It was a joke, Myrrh—I know it’s not that funny I—Okay, okay, go to bed. I’ll see you in a bit,” More silence and a sigh. “Stop making my daughter feel bad for me. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re the one that said it.”

“Because it’s true. Can’t you tell?”

“I wouldn’t care even if I could.” Making Ephraim cry. What a concept Innes muses, placing the plate onto the floor. He puts the phone on speaker as he caresses his cat, smiling at her delighted purrs. “What a good girl.”

“You’re not talking to me are you?”

“No Ephraim, because you’re not a good boy at all.” Ephraim sputters at that. Innes takes it as a victory. “How was your time at Rausten?” He asks while the other man recovers. “Quaint, I assume?”

“R-Real quaint,” Ephraim clears his throat. “Everyone is pretty cool. They serenaded me with dance.”

“They do that sometimes.”

“It was kinda boring, though. All I did was wash dishes. It was so slow. I think we got a total of five people.”

“It’s like that sometimes.”

“I don’t know, I’m starting to think you were exaggerating about it being a pain.” Ephraim says lightly. Innes abruptly stops petting Frelia. “It wasn’t bad at all. We played _cards_ , Innes. What’s difficult about that?”

“It was not busy today. Of course you wouldn’t have a difficult time.”

“It’s not only that,” Ephraim continues. “Everyone was pretty in sync. Nothing fell apart, even without you there.”

“…What are you implying?” Innes asks, an edge to his tone. Ephraim couldn’t be attempting to say Innes did nothing but scamper around playing games, could he? That he wasn’t necessary in order for things to go smoothly?

Frelia must sense his growing irritation, for she leaves her food momentarily to nose at his hand. He pokes it affectionately.

“I’m not implying anything,” Ephraim attempts to clarify.” All I’m saying is that I handled it well. Things back at Renais are usually more tense. I’m swamped with work the moment I step in. You get what I’m saying.”

“All I did was peel potatoes so, no, I _don’t_ get it.” Innes really shouldn’t be letting this get to him, but he never was able to control himself when it came to matters involving his pride. “If you are attempting to say I don’t work nearly as hard as you do, I suggest you rethink this line of conversation.”

“What? _No_!” Ephraim exclaims, agitated. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know. I can’t control the nonsense that comes out of your mouth. Nonsense that seems to be an attempt to discredit what little I’ve told you in reference to my profession. I suppose I should not be surprised, as I’ve gained a clear image of your duties as a vegetable dicer. Or maybe peeler would be more appropriate in this case.”

That succeeds in riling Ephraim up.

“Stop it, Innes.” He warns. How humorous. He thinks he can dictate what Innes can and cannot say.

“Stop what? I’m merely returning the favor. You’ve made your opinions about me clear. Am I hurting your feelings?”

“You’re the one putting words in my mouth. Are _you_ trying to say all I do is peel potatoes?”

“Smart man. You’re finally catching on.”

“That’s not true!” Ephraim bites back. “I don’t know what they were thinking, but they were obviously going easy on you.”

“I’m sure.”

“You’re really starting this?”

“ _I’m_ not starting anything. I’m only continuing a discussion _you_ began. But, you know what, you’re _right._ ” Innes responds, forcing his voice into something more pleasant. “I’m overreacting.”

“You sure are. You’re great at it.” Ephraim jeers. “That and whining about _absolutely nothing_. Don’t you ever get tired of having a permanent stick up your—“

“— _You know what_ ,” Innes interrupts, because he knows if they keep this up it’ll inevitably devolve into pathetically petty insults. Innes was _classy_. As if he’d stoop to the buffoonish level of confrontation Ephraim seemed insistent on. “Please forget everything I have ever told you about my job. It’s a breeze in actuality. The rest of the week should be no problem for you. However, perhaps I’m putting a bit too much confidence in your ability to get even the simplest of tasks done.”

“It damn well _will be a breeze_. Good luck getting yelled at by my boss for not breathing correctly. But what am I saying? That’s no different from what you probably do,” Ephraim laughs humorlessly. “I’m sure everyone here is relieved to not have you around nagging and breathing down their necks for a few days. Honestly, I’m kinda glad I don’t have to listen to you bitch about everything because you’re _so_ much better than everyone else. Only Innes knows how to live a fulfilled fucking life because only Innes has a fucking brain. You _self-righteous prick._ ”

Innes bites his cheek and counts to ten.

Ephraim wouldn’t get the better of him. He wouldn’t. Innes was an adult. He wasn’t petty. He wouldn’t go low. He wouldn’t go low. He wouldn’t—

“I fail to see what a pampered, sheltered, ignorant and immature child would understand about hard work but, go on Ephraim. _Inform me_. Because I’m sure daddy’s little boy knows all about what it means to put more than a single iota of effort into anything he does. Then again, what do I know? I’m not the one who complains about having everything handed to him on a silver platter and comes up with excuse after excuse on why he isn’t good enough to live up to standards he’ll certainly never be able to meet. So yes, I’m sure my peers will be happy to be rid of me, because I’m such a controlling, self-centered, full of himself asshole who cannot for the life of him figure out why he’s even wasting his time with someone as short-sided and inadequate as you are. But, sure, speak up Ephraim. _Lecture me_. I’m all ears. Use all three of your vocabulary words while you’re at it.”

“ _Fuck you_.” Ephraim snarls.

“ _Not even if you begged._ ”

Innes hangs up with finality. He lets out a few incoherent noises of frustration, setting his phone to the side so he can properly bury his face in his hands.

“Stupid. Ignorant. Idiotic. _Idiot!_ ” He hisses under his breath. How could Ephraim have the gall to say all of that to him? What nerve. What insolence.

_Nothing fell apart, even without you there._

It doesn’t sting, Innes tells himself. Why should he take anything Ephraim says seriously? What did he know about Innes? About anyone at Rausten? All he knew was how to be incompetent and irritating. He deserved every word Innes said back at him. All of it.

_‘Short-sided and inadequate’_

No. _No._ He _didn’t_ feel bad. Ephraim probably didn’t regret anything he said to Innes either. Ephraim _deserved_ it. Innes would not regret it.

He _wouldn’t_ regret it.

He _wasn’t_ regretting it.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He mumbles, noticing Frelia’s gaze on him. “He deserved it.”

She doesn’t say anything in response, (unsurprising considering she’s a cat) but the way she turns her back on him is more than enough to get her feelings on the matter across.

 

* * *

 

“…Fuck.” Ephraim collapses down onto his sofa, cellphone held weakly in his grasp. What the hell even was that? He hadn’t expected a simple conversation about work to escalate that quickly.

_‘I’m sure everyone here is relieved to not have you around’_

Where did that even come from? Not that Innes didn’t have it coming, but Ephraim thought he was _way_ better at keeping his cool than this.

Stupid Innes. Being an ass over Ephraim speaking honestly about his experience. He hadn’t meant anything by his words initially, merely a casual remark, but Innes as always had to blow everything out of proportion and be so damn over sensitive and—

Whatever. It wasn’t even worth thinking about. He had better things to do than worry about what Innes thought about him. He needed to tuck Myrrh in and get to bed. He had work tomorrow.

“…fuck.” He whispers again, rubbing at his eyes.

He shouldn’t feel guilty. There was no reason to feel bad. Innes said more than enough to deserve Ephraim’s ire and contempt. _He_ should feel guilty. Not Ephraim.

 _Not him_.

“…Did I fuck up again?” He asks himself quietly.

Naturally, there is no response.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh...I'm sorry?


	13. Trading Spaces (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two men think a whole lot.

“You’re very good at that, sir.”

 _‘Don’t you have anything better to do_ ’ is the harsh remark on the tip of his tongue, Innes catching himself before he can say it. His foul mood the past two days was no fault of Franz. The younger man had been nothing but kind to him.

He remains silent, hoping he wouldn’t be encouraged into conversation. Maybe Franz would take it as a sign he wasn’t up for speaking, as it was meant to be.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t.

“That napkin,” Franz clarifies, likely assuming he did not understand or hear him,pointing to the heron Innes hadn’t even realized he was creating. “It’s really pretty.”

“Thank you.” Innes turns it over in his hands. Perhaps he unconsciously found comfort in the action while his mind drifted elsewhere, waiting for Seth to direct him. Two days without his usual kitchen privileges and he was already feeling desperate to do something. _Anything_. Even the most menial of tasks. “We do this often at Rausten. My superior insists on offering unique avian creatures every week to charm customers.” Not always, especially if L’Arachel was in a particularly quirky mood, but most of the time. Innes could only acquiesce. What L’Arachel wanted, she got. “I’m not sure how well it actually works.”

“Probably _really_ well,” Franz eyes it curiously. Innes hands it over, lips quirking at the bright smile sent his way. “You’re really talented. It looks just like one!”

“Practice makes perfect. You can keep it if you’d like. I’ve had enough of them, to be honest.”

Franz sits on the stool next to him. Innes resists the urge to groan. He really just wanted some time to himself this morning. To think through…whatever happened between him and Ephraim. He’d been too furious to even _try_ to contemplate it yesterday, sure that if he did it would only end in him lashing out on an undeserving soul.

Misdirecting his anger would get him nowhere. Instead he focused on day two of his mock internship at Renais.

It had helped, engaging in the small, nearly inconsequential tasks Seth insisted on giving him. Today with a slightly clearer but not any less pissed off head, he tried to look at things from a more objective viewpoint.

Ephraim started it. Unintentionally maybe, but no less irresponsible. Honestly, did the man ever think about the words coming out of his mouth? Or how they would be perceived and reacted towards? Innes doubted it. Ephraim enjoyed living off the cuff from what he gathered. Putting more than a few seconds of thought into _anything_ was likely difficult for him.

His own words were…well, Innes was slowly coming to the realization that perhaps he had said a bit too much. Ephraim trusted him with deeply personal information and he had flung it back in his face. Mocked him for it. He would accept his wrong doings, but what remained to be seen was whether Ephraim would. And Innes wasn’t planning on speaking to him any time soon.

He doesn’t even know _why_ he’s agonizing over it so much. Usually an argument like that would spur him into _not_ thinking about the other party. Maybe even cutting ties completely.

Somehow _that_ bothered him more than the actual argument.

 _Stupid dumb idiotic Ephraim,_ Innes thinks bitterly. Him and his knack for invading Innes’s thoughts when all he wanted to do was _not think about him._

“Are you good at other stuff like this?” Franz distracts him with a question, his tone conversational. Inviting. “Like crafts?”

His annoyance dissipates into resignation as Innes takes a look at the genuinely curious expression on Franz’s face. He lets out a quiet sigh.

Who could be annoyed at someone who radiated sunshine?

“…Not particularly. I know the very basics of stitching and sewing but little else.” It was mostly on his father’s insistence. Innes still recalls the long-winded speech on why it was necessary for him to be capable of fixing his own clothing rather than having to run home to one of them for help. As if Innes would ever do that. He did agree on its usefulness, though.

“That’s still something to be proud of,” Franz glances around, lowering his voice. “Any time Forde tries to patch any of his clothing up, he ends up with three sleeves and no place to put his head through.”

“You two clearly have your own strengths.”

Franz laughs softly.

“Definitely. I don’t mind fixing them for him. I actually really like embroidery.”

 _How fitting_ , Innes thinks to himself, observing the tenderness of Franz’s smile. He absolutely exuded a serene gentleness. No wonder Innes felt a little better about actual human interaction today.

“What sorts of projects do you work on?”

“Oh! Um…” He hesitates. “This is a little embarrassing but…I like, um, making bags and…and other stuff…”

“What a handy skill,” Innes says, impressed by the admission. “Tana has designed and created no small amount of clothing and accessories, but I do not believe she has made a bag as of yet.”

“She’s told me a little bit about it,” Franz informs him, shoulders slumping with relief. Innes doesn’t understand why they were hunched in the first place. “She’s going to school for it, right?”

“Correct. She’s very talented.” Innes adds proudly. His sister was second to none when it came to creativity and the execution of her ideas.

“Heh, I bet she is.” Franz agrees. “Maybe one day I can be as good as her.”

“I don’t see why you couldn’t.”

“That’s nice of you to say, sir, but I’m barely keeping up with my job as it is now. I don’t want to think about trying to put my focus into something else on top of that.”

“That’s understandable.” Putting too much on your plate could lead to getting next to nothing done. Still, if he enjoyed it, Innes did not understand why he couldn’t view it as a hobby to engage in from time to time. “One step at a time, I suppose.”

“More like ten steps back and counting.” The comment comes across as depreciative. Strange. And here he thought Franz was as optimistic as his brother.

“What makes you say that?” Innes presses, frowning.

“Huh?” Franz is visibly surprised, as if he hadn’t actually meant to say it aloud. “Oh, um…it’s kinda difficult not to think that when it looks like everyone around me is pulling ahead while I’m still struggling to keep up…”

“Really?” Innes is skeptical of that claim. He hadn’t gotten the impression that Franz lagged behind his coworkers at all. In fact, he seemed well within his element, working alongside Seth and swiftly getting orders in and out with a practiced grace. What kind of standards was he holding himself to? Not that Innes was in any position to question Franz about holding himself to unrealistically high standards, _but still_. “You must hold your peers in high regard.”

“Of course I do! They deserve it!” Franz persists. “I may be biased because he’s my brother, but Forde is really special. Everything he does comes out great. He’s my role model. Kyle is serious and mature and never lets anything get to him, Eirika is super smart and capable and can solve any problem with her eyes closed, and Seth—“ He smiles. “Seth is perfect. He’s everything I want to be. Everything I should be. I’m just…I’m not much. I mess up a lot and cause trouble for everyone when I do. They probably think I get in the way more than I help…”

“I do not understand. I have heard only praise about your work ethic.” Granted, Innes had only been around for two days, but even an amount of time as short as that was useful in deciphering on the job politics. And to him it seemed, if anything, Franz was Renais’s golden boy. Their greatest pride. What reason would he have to feel _inadequate—_

He cuts that thought short, repressing the urge to go on a tangent that would no doubt bring him even more guilt.

“That’s because everyone is nice. Sometimes I feel like they’re holding my hand because they don’t want to make me feel bad.”

“Understandable.” Innes wouldn’t want to make Franz feel bad either. He was sunshine incarnate after all. Next to Tiki of course, but that was another matter entirely.

“What?”

“Nothing. Continue.”

“…They’re always telling me that all I have to do is my very best, which I do, but reaching Seth’s caliber. Being like him…I don’t think that’ll ever happen.” He laughs weakly. “Not even if I was capable of two-hundred percent…”

“Two-hundred percent is a large number.”

“Yeah…”

“But wouldn’t you say that is the problem?”

“Huh?”

“ _That_ is the problem. You will _never_ be Seth.” Franz’s face falls immediately but Innes perseveres. He needed to hear this if he wanted to move forward in any meaningful way. “You can never be Seth because you _aren’t_ Seth. You are _your own person,_ ” Innes emphasizes. _“That’s_ the difference. His experiences and his hopes, his failures and his successes, they all belong to him. He cannot give you any of that. That is why striving to be someone else will always end in failure,” Innes steels his gaze. “If you want to improve, to get better and feel as though you are making progress, you need to stop measuring yourself against other people. Find strength in your own resolve and knowledge in your own experiences. Count your own wins and losses and ask why they happened and what can be changed for the better. And also, for all that is holy, s _top underestimating your own ability_. I have never in my life seen anyone pull off a ratatouille that perfectly put together all by himself. Are you genuinely this lacking in confidence or are you taking pity on our inferiority?” It looked like _something out of a movie_. Completely unreal. Innes hadn’t seen circles that perfectly sliced and assembled together in his _entire life_. It was _tear worthy._

“…You think my ratatouille is good?” Franz, of all things, decides to ask, moved by his words. Maybe Innes should have held back on the philosophical jargon if all he had to do was compliment him. Such a simple young man.

“It has made me question my own abilities yes,” He responds. “But you see, I am not you Franz. I am I. Therefore, I will not agonize over your perfect technique and will instead strive to better myself.”

“…Be a better you!” Franz exclaims, struck with inspiration. “That’s all we can do!”

“Yes. I believe that is what I mean to say.”

“Be a better me,” He repeats, nodding with a bit more resolve than he had before. “I think I get it. I guess I got a bit too caught up watching everyone else, I didn’t take the time to look at myself.”

“It’s a simple error to make.”

“Have you ever had moments like that?” Franz asks. “Where you kinda…lose yourself, I guess?”

“I doubt there are many who do not,” What a question. If only Franz knew. “It’s natural to assume everyone else is better off than you. Ignoring that and fine tuning yourself is a challenge when you fail to realize they also experience that same struggle. You may admire Seth, but I am sure he’s had to deal with his own moments of weakness.”

“Of course I have.” A third person joins in their conversation. Innes didn’t even notice him approach.

“Seth!” Franz exclaims, immediately standing at attention. Innes finds it comical. “You have?”

“Innes is correct in his assumption,” Seth glances at him before placing a firm hand on Franz’s shoulder, smiling kindly. “Have more faith in your ability. Don’t get lost in your own thoughts thinking we’re the pinnacle of perfection. Why, when I first began, there wasn’t a day where I didn’t drive my superiors to a frustrated fury. Fickle-feeted Seth, they called me.”

Franz laughs.

“And now look at you! You sure showed them!”

“I did. Now get to your post. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Of course, sir!” Franz moves to rush off, stumbling slightly as he comes to a sudden stop. “I almost forgot. Thank you, sir.” He says to Innes, grinning a smile so pure Innes thinks it actually manages to burn his retinas. “I feel a lot better about everything now thanks to you.”

“You are welcome. And please, Innes is fine.”

“Heh, all right Innes.” He nods, finally disappearing into the kitchen and leaving he and Seth behind.

“I didn’t take you for the type to offer that kind of emotional support.” Seth says after a beat of silence. Innes shrugs. It wasn’t as if it was his intention. He was only speaking his mind.

“I’m not usually this charitable.” He replies. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Not at all,” Seth pauses. “Thank you. We all have high hopes for him. However, sometimes I think our encouragement has the opposite effect.”

“He thinks you’re babying him.”

“Perhaps. It isn’t my intention. I simply want to nurture his potential. Support him while he’s still learning. He’s a good young man. I know he can achieve so much more.”

“He will,” Innes can feel it. Can see it in Franz’s every expression and motion while working. There’s a tenacity and passion within those kind eyes. A willingness to go farther. Maybe it’s a bit presumptuous of him assume, but he senses a kindred spirit in Franz. “You’ve taught him well.”

“He’s taught himself everything he needs to know,” Seth corrects, walking away. “Come along,” He says over his shoulder. “Let’s get you started. Can’t have you peeling vegetables for a third day. I can tell you’re about to burst.” There’s humor in his tone, a knowing good-naturedness.

“Anything to appease the elderly.” Innes tests the waters, see how far he’ll be allowed. Seth only laughs.

“They’re teaching you bad habits, I see.”

“And here I thought _I_ was the bad influence.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Innes is finally getting to cook. It’s only been two days, but he’s already ready and raring to go.

 

* * *

 

“You wanna know what I think, Gerik?”

“What is it, Joshy-kins?”

“I’m thinking we’ve got another space cadet. Over. On our hands. Over.”

“Oh no, I’m not doing this if you refuse to do it correctly. Where’s Marisa? _Marisa?_ ”

“What?”

“Wanna fake walkie talkie chat with me? Josh sucks at it.”

“Don’t come at my radio skills, man, you don’t know me. You don’t know where my radio skills originated from.”

“From the _trash can._ ”

“Oh snap,” Marisa holds out her hand. Gerik high fives it. “ _Roasted_. How does it feel to be a pile of ash?”

“Pretty embarrassing honestly. I might have to call my mom to pick me up. She’s gonna be so ashamed.”

“Tell her to bring those honey cakes she makes. Your mom makes a mean honey cake.” Marisa says, licking her lips. “Can she adopt me into your family?”

“I don’t think your dad would appreciate that.”

“I think he would be fine with it. He has a thing for your mom.”

“Oh my god, my mom has a thing for your dad, too. Ya’think they’re gonna get married someday? Are you gonna be my step-sis?”

“That’d be awesome.”

“I know, right?”

“Hold your horses.” Gerik attempts to call the pair down but is completely ignored in the midst their excitement. He sighs, turning his attention to the original reason for their conversation “You okay, kid? You’ve been looking a little worse for wear.”

“M’fine.” Ephraim replies, not sounding it in the least. He looks like death itself frankly, and real conflicted. He rests his cheek against the table he’s currently moping at, letting out a heavy sigh. Sorta reminds Gerik of a certain blonde currently missing in action. Curious sorta similarity. “Don’t pay attention to me.”

“This ain’t no cry for attention is it?”

Another gloomy sigh. Oh _hell yeah it is_ , he realizes with exasperation.

L’Arachel didn’t keep Gerik around to be invested or interested in all these kid’s lives. Didn’t expect him to worry for ‘em or even pay their nonsense any mind. And that was a whole lotta nonsense.

But he does it anyway, _dammit._ He couldn’t turn his back on any one who looked like a sad little puppy who just got denied the affection they so rightfully deserve. Especially not any of his kids. This one wasn’t his, but that hardly mattered at all. Innes had taken a real shine to him and that was all the reason Gerik needed to try and cheer the guy up.

“Hey now,” He starts gently, taking a seat beside Ephraim. “Won’t do you no good to act all macho when you’re clearly not feeling all right. I get if it’s personal, but maybe you might wanna share? I swear it won’t leave this room, whatever it is.”

“I told you it’s nothing.”

“It don’t look like nothing. And I can’t have you all mopey when we gotta work. It messes up the vibe.”

“There’s no one here.” Ephraim replies without thinking, wincing at his own words.

“Not _yet_. Which is why you’re free to vent if you want. Don’t have to, but I’m willing to lend you an ear. Is it something serious?”

“Not really….Maybe… _Kinda_. Thing is, I feel like you might want to toss me through a window once I tell you what it is.”

“That’s an extreme conclusion you’re making,” Gerik raises an eyebrow. “What do I got to do with it?”

“It’s about…someone you know.”

“Who?”

“It’s—“ Ephraim sighs, figuring there was nothing to do but to get it over with. “It’s about Innes.

“Prepare for launch because I got a feeling this isn’t anything good.” Gerik jokes.

Ephraim grimaces.

“I got into a fight with him.”

“It happens.” Gerik responds. Not exactly surprising. Cute that he was this upset about it, though. “It’s pretty easy to get into a fight with him if you’re not on board with his ice queen shtick.”

“It was a really _really_ bad fight.”

“How bad?”

“ _Really_ bad.” Ephraim briefly considers spilling everything, but decides against it. Gerik likely knows Innes enough to give him advice on how to approach their tiff, but asking someone else to help fix it seemed wrong somehow. 

“Okay,” Gerik nods. “You plan on making up or what?”

“I don’t know. When I say bad, I mean _really_ bad. It escalated quick. We fought about work. He—“ Ephraim cuts himself off. “—Never mind. I’ll deal with it. I just need some time to think everything over.” Funnily enough, Ephraim wasn’t all that upset about _what_ had been said to him. He’d heard it all before. Hearing it again wasn’t anything too earth-shattering.

What bothered him most was _who_ had said it.Innes using what Ephraim told him _against_ him in a moment of rage wasn’t surprising, but it _was_ saddening. Just a little bit.

He hadn’t _meant_ to insult Innes and start anything. Not at all. He was only trying to poke a little fun at him. Tease him a little. Of course he knew Innes worked hard. He hadn't wanted to suggest otherwise.

It clearly backfired. Sometimes his mouth just… _said_ _things_ before his brain could catch up and landed him in situations where people weren’t very happy with him. He wished he could be better at it. At thinking before speaking like Eirika always told him to. Now all he could do was feel bad about starting something that could have easily been avoided. If he only kept his mouth shut, maybe he wouldn't be feeling like a literal punch to the gut personified.

Ephraim sighs.He liked to tease Innes about being bad at feelings, but it wasn’t as if he was any better at them. His head already hurt trying to decipher everything. Or maybe that was something coming on? He did feel a little congested.He sure hoped it wasn’t. Getting sick was the last thing he needed.

“Best piece of advice I can give you is not to be afraid to say you’re sorry. Goes for him too, but I think I’ve told him that enough times over the years.” Gerik smiles. “I gotta feeling you’ll work it out. Cooling your head first is definitely a good idea.”

“Thanks for caring anyway,” Ephraim returns the kind expression. “You’re a good guy, Gerik.”

“Nah, not really. I’ve got a vested interest in keeping everyone around me happy. Makes me feel good when I can make sure no one’s in any trouble.”

“Nothing wrong with that. It’s a good sort of selfish.”

“I think I like the sound of that,” Gerik grins. “Say, what time is it?”

“The time?” Ephraim pulls out his phone. “A quarter after noon.”

“I suggest you brace yourself.” Gerik says, rising from his seat. “Marisa, Josh. Stations.”

“Aye-aye, captain!” They both immediately stop blabbering about the logistics of sharing a bunk bed and do as they’re told. Ephraim blinks.

“We expecting a big group?” He asks.

Gerik smiles smugly.

“There’s no one here, you said? Boy, you ain’t see the flaming pits of hell until you’ve seen our Wednesday through Friday lunch-dinner rush hour. Get ready, cause you’re in for a world of hurt.”

“What?”

As if on cue, the doors to Rausten slam open, startling Ephraim. Rabid looking customers enter with manic expressions. Men and women dressed in clothing ranging from business attire to the mascot of a local toy store start demanding to be fed, chanting it, their hunger overpowering any sense of propriety and etiquette.

“Tally ho, my subjects!” L’Arachel gallantly bursts out of the kitchen. “We’re wrangling a savage bunch today. Why, they’re practically foaming at the mouth! Dozla!”

“Right behind you!” A jolly laugh echoes through the room as a man Ephraim’s never met seemingly appears out of nowhere, rushing beside L’Arachel. “Table for everyone!”

“That’s the spirit, dearest Dozla!”

Dozla rallies behind her, stopping momentarily to greet him.

“Hello young man! Wonderful day isn’t it?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, running off to get people seated.

Ephraim stares. Gerik sets a hand on his shoulder.

“They’re hungry and on a time limit. You game?” Gerik eyes him curiously.

“You didn’t even have to ask.” Ephraim huffs, shaking off the surprise, turning to join everyone else in the kitchen. If Innes could deal with this, so could he. He’d dealt with worse at Renais. Probably. “ _Bring it on._ ”

 

* * *

 

“Innes! Where are those—“

“Already prepared and ready for departure.”

“Where are the gnocchi? Are they—“

“Sent out seconds ago.”

“Garnish for—“

“You simply needed to ask,” Innes slips in front of Seth, sprinkling the finely diced pieces of parsley onto the pasta dish. “Done. Anything else sir?”

“Status report on tables seven, ten, and fourteen.”

“They should be out in less than a minute between each other. I’ve prepped for tables five, six, and eleven. Franz is currently working on them with Kyle and Forde.”

“Gotta another one!” Tana chimes in with another order.

“Innes can you—“

“Right away.” Innes can feel his pep returning with every step as he bounds off to begin yet another round of orders. It was invigorating moving around the kitchen with sure-footed steps. To be allowed to make decisions and not _cut_ corners, but round them with precision and accuracy.Being one step ahead of the game while precariously juggling eleven other things at the same time was revitalizing. He loved every second of it. Every second of the crunch and pressure and satisfaction that came with a successfully pleased customer.

It was certainly jarring to be somewhere where everyone was completely disciplined. Jokes were cut to a minimum and severity upped to the max, but there was something to be appreciated about the no nonsense atmosphere and the individuals who rode it out efficiently. Seeing the usually laid-backed Forde following through on his duties, Kyle who looked not the slightest bit tired, Franz who acted with such sureness and Seth who kept everything moving smoothly was a satisfying experience.

He loved Rausten, but this was a welcome change of pace.

The day ends well. Innes is stretching his fingers out when someone slapping his back nearly sends him flying onto the floor.

“Awesome! I knew you had the right stuff!” Forde exclaims happily, grinning ear to ear. “You tore it up! I gotta say, it makes me wonder how you went and lost to you know who.”

“I have to wonder as well.” Innes replies flatly. “Thank you for the detached lung.”

“Ha. Sorry about that.”

“You’re natural sir— _Innes,_ ” Franz tells him with a smile. “It’s like you weren’t even worried.”

“I had no reason to be.” It was his job after all. No matter where Innes was, he would make sure to do it well.

“Yeah, it’s a lot different than dealing with Ephraim and his sudden creativity,” Forde says. “I mean, it usually works out for the best, but it’s not good for any of our hearts.”

“His creativity?” Innes curses his curiosity. He was supposed to be mad at Ephraim, not actively asking about him.

“He likes to change things up whenever he feels like it.” Forde explains. “Always manages to wow everyone with whatever he comes up with. Guy is never happy with keeping things vanilla.”

“A lot of the items on the menu were his last minute experiments that customers loved and wouldn’t stop requesting,” Franz adds. “It’s a little stressful because we change it all the time, but Ephraim says it’s boring if we never try anything new.”

“He’s a real pain in the ass.” Forde’s words are harsh but his expression fond. "Wouldn't be where we are without him."

"What makes you say that?" Innes asks.

"Ephraim's the one who comes up with the hits. We let him do as he pleases because he won't have it any other way. The guy spends _days_ thinking up new things for us to try. We test them out, give critique and he fixes them into jewels," Forde chuckles. "Never met someone this invested in his job, but he's one of a kind."

Innes clenches his jaw, not sure how to feel about this new information.

Doesn't put a single iota of effort, was it? What an ass Innes had been, making such an off base accusation. He _knew_ how desperately Ephraim wanted to prove himself. Knew how he strove to improve and get better. Knew he'd searched desperately for something to fill him with motivation and he'd--

Innes told him he wasn't good enough.

“Forde. Franz. You’re on clean up in the dining area with me.” Seth appears from beyond the kitchen doors, Kyle trailing behind him. “Innes, would you help Kyle with inventory?”

“Yes sir.” Now wasn't the time to think about such things. Innes was still on the clock. He needed to focus. Thinking about his problem was to be reserved for when he was home and could properly decompress.

Seth nods at his response, considering him for a moment.

"...I'd also like to thank you. You did quite well today. I'm impressed."

"Expecting less?" Innes questions, taken aback by the praise.

"One cannot so easily change the nature of their ingrained assumptions," Seth tells him, smiling slightly. "But I'm always open to being proven wrong. Good work."

"Thank you." It felt nice. To be expected of his skill, but a compliment from the head chef himself seemed rare if Forde and Franz's equally as surprised as they are pleased expressions are anything to go by. Innes happily takes it.

"Why aren't you that cool with me?" Forde whines. "I'm a great employee!"

"When you aren't finding excuses to sleep," Seth scoffs with unconcealed disdain. "Clean up. Now."

“Why do _I_ have to do it?” Forde complains. “I hate clean up. Don’t you wanna trade, Innes? Rookie's need to be hazed with this sort of stuff don't they?”

“Not really.”

“There you have it,” Seth rolls his eyes at Forde’s complaining. “Let’s go. Unless you want me to assign you more work?”

“Lead the way, gramps _._ ”

“Don’t test me.”

“Sorry sir.”

Innes shakes his head at Forde’s antics, watching the trio exit the room, leaving him with Kyle.

“Here,” Innes barely has enough time to react to the tablet tossed at him. “You know how it’s done.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

“I do.” He usually does it on paper because that’s the method L’Arachel prefers. This shouldn’t be any different besides that.

“I’ll take one half. You take the other. Everything’s labeled clearly but tell me if you’re having trouble.”

“All right.”

They work in silence for the most part. Which is completely fine by Innes. It gives him the opportunity to wind down and focus on taking stock after a hectic day. He enjoyed the excitement of his job, but the exhaustion always kicked in after all of his adrenaline had run dry.Although he has to admit, the lack of L’Arachel’s idle chatter or Joshua’s humming as he runs numbers or even Tethys playing with his hair while she talks to Gerik and Marisa about Ewan’s latest accomplishment feels oddly missing.

Not that he missed them or anything.

“You did a good job today.”

Innes almost doesn’t register that Kyle’s spoken, the abruptness catching him off guard. He glances at him, Kyle’s attention still focused on typing in numbers at a brisk pace.

“Did I?”

“Playing dumb?”

“I wouldn’t want to presume.”

“Nothing wrong with telling the truth,” Kyle turns his head to get a better look at a few boxes. It allows Innes a glimpse at the piercings lining his ear, something he hadn’t noticed before. His vision trails lower, the beginnings of ink peeking out the collar of Kyle’s work uniform catching his attention. “You fell into step with us well enough.”

“I wasn’t planning on doing anything less.”

“An overachiever? That’s surprising.”

“Your sarcasm speaks volumes.”

Kyle’s lips quirk upward.

“It’s not a bad thing. Makes me wonder is all.”

“Wonder what?”

“That guy hasn’t always attracted the best of company. How he goes from one extreme to the next like it’s nothing and still has the nerve to say he isn’t eclectic is beyond me.”

By process of elimination, it’s obvious who he’s referring to. What a great day to be constantly reminded of the one person Innes doesn’t want to think about.

“ _That’s of no concern to me_.” He sounds downright _petulant._ Kyle turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised, making it obvious it comes across that way to him, too. “ _He can do whatever he wants_.”

“Okay,” Kyle looks frustratingly amused, as if he sees through Innes completely. How annoying. “Just saying, it’s a relief. Glad I don’t have to bust his door down and tell him to grow a brain cell or two. Once his mind is set on something, there’s no talking him out of it.”

“Are you close friends?” He responds idly, trying not to dwell on anything in specific.

“Lovers.”

Innes almost drops the tablet in his hands.

“ _What?_ ”

“Just kidding.” Kyle smirks at him, clearly satisfied with Innes’s reaction. Satisfied with _what_ is unclear. “T’was a joke. My heart belongs to another.”

Innes can’t even respond.

“…”

“I’ve known Ephraim for a few years,” Kyle continues. “Came in to get tatted at the shop I work at when I’m not here, which is most of the time. You interested?” He sets the tablet aside and sidles up to Innes, whipping out his phone. “I’ve got some samples here. Check them out.”

“They’re…nice?” Innes _does_ think they’re incredibly well done, a variety of different designs ranging from ridiculously detailed flowers to full on portraits. “You’re very talented. Unfortunately, I’m not interested.”

“If you ever are give me call,” Kyle pulls out a business card next and tucks it into his hand. It explains what Innes noticed earlier. “It was his first one but he refused to start small. Got to know each other after a few sessions. He was being mentored at the time. You hear about this?”

“About the mentoring, yes.” Innes wonders what kind of tattoo Ephraim has and where.

Then he realizes what he’s thinking and wants to slap himself.

“We shared mutual interests. He’s peculiar about his tastes. You’ve seen the bike.”

“An atrocity.”

“I agree. That’s part of his charm, I think. He won’t back down if he likes something. Probably all part of the upbringing.”

Innes can see that. Ephraim’s rebellion against his father, the value he placed on independence and following his passions. Liking odd patterns that had no place on any of his belongings and refusing to change despite all of the criticism.

“You done with that?” Kyle gestures towards the tablet. Innes hands it over. “Thanks. Can I say something? Ephraim is a grown man and I really don’t care what he does in his free time but…”

“Yes?”

“Don’t hurt him.” Kyle states, gaze hardening. “He’s a good person. He doesn’t deserve to be surrounded by shitty people.”

Oh, a protective acquaintance. How nice. Completely unnecessary and foolish, but nice.

“I wasn’t aware you were his guardian,” Innes remarks snidely. “And I don’t think who he chooses to speak to is any of your business.” Not that they were on speaking terms at the moment.

“It’s not, but I’m not going to have him spiral for the tenth fucking time and tell me he ‘ _read the signs wrong_ ’ or some stupid bullshit like that. Don’t betray his trust is all I’m saying. He’s got a kid and whether he thinks so or not, who he dates is going to affect her.”

Innes’s thoughts come to a sudden, screeching halt.

Did he hear that incorrectly?

“Excuse me?”

“You need another shovel talk?”

“ _Shovel_ —I’m not _dating him,_ ” Innes exclaims, shocked by Kyle’s assumption. “ _Where on Earth_ did you get that idea _?”_

“Oh…Are you two not public yet? I won’t say anything to anyone if it’s that.”

“We aren’t together at all!” Innes grows flustered. What was he embarrassed about? They weren’t an item! It wasn’t necessary to feel any kind of way about someone assuming that!

“So the day time visits and phone calls aren’t a romantic thing?”

“ _He_ calls me. _He_ visits me.”

“And _you_ answer _him_. _You_ receive him with open arms. He comes back with the stupidest expression on his face but that’s totally platonic? All right.”

“ _Yes_ , that’s exactly true.”

“Okay.” Kyle doesn’t look convinced, which makes it even worse. Innes feels like he’s digging his grave rather than making a strong case for how they aren’t in any kind of relationship that can be labeled as anything more than friendly rivals. “I believe you.”

“I have the strangest feeling you don’t.”

“That’s on you.” Kyle smirks again. “You two make the nicest pair of _friends._ ”

“ _Thank you very much._ ”

“Yo Kyle! Innes!” Forde bursts through the doors suddenly, balancing what looks to be fine china on his head. “How long do you bet I can keep balancing this on my head?”

“Forde! Stop that right now!” Seth stands at a distance, too nervous to make any false moves that’ll end in the plate falling to the floor and shattering. “If you break that—“

“I won’t—Oops!”

“ _Forde!_ ”

“Heh, gotcha!” Forde laughs breezily, either unaware or uncaring of the concern of everyone around him. “You should have seen your face! I’m not gonna— _Ah._ ” He sways backwards, losing his balance for a moment.

Everyone watches in horror as it slips off his head. Innes winces preemptively.

“Not happening.” As swiftly as she appears, Eirika catches it gracefully with one hand. “I’m sure you know why we don’t allow this now, don’t you Forde?” She smiles. It’s a bit vicious. Innes is glad he isn’t on the receiving end of it.

“Just trying to entertain my fellow employees, m'am.”

"By risking damage to our plates."

"...I thought it would be fun?"

“And that’s _my_ idiot.” Kyle mutters to Innes, facepalming as they both watch Forde fail to justify his actions. “I'm sure you understand where I'm coming from. You know, with your _friend_ and all."

Innes doesn't like the insinuation, but he can understand the feeling of witnessing pure, unfiltered outlandish behavior.

“You have my condolences.”

 

* * *

 

“What a wonderful day!” L’Arachel chirps, still as chipper as she began the day. “You all did very well. Including you, Mr. Ephraim. I’m very impressed.”

“ _Thanks_.” He wheezes out, slumped over a counter. He can’t even comment on her actually calling him by his actual name.

He’s so tired, he can’t even _remember_ what his name is.

“What a drama queen.” Marisa elbows Joshua, as if to say ‘ _get a load of this loser._ ’ “This wasn’t even the worst we get.”

“Need some water, handsome?” Tethys places a comforting hand on his back. “Or maybe a little fresh air? Think you can stand up?” Her gentle tone is nowhere near patronizing, which is the only reason Ephraim doesn’t find himself offended. He can tell she’s genuinely worried.

“ _Ba—by~_ ” Joshua hisses over at Marisa. She nods in agreement.

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” Ephraim responds, thankful for her concern. “This was… _this was new._ ” It really was. Ephraim hadn’t ever put much thought into the idea of organized chaos, but if he made the effort to crack open a dictionary for the first time in a decade, Rausten would most certainly be the definition of it. Because, _by the_ _gods_ , he had never experienced so much panicked screaming, fire, and unnecessary puns all in the course of one work shift. There reached a point where everyone was babbling code words and when Ephraim asked what they meant, not a single one of them had any clue of what he was talking about.

L’Arachel simply told him to, quote, ‘ _deal with it_ ’.

Ephraim missed Renais so, _so much._

“What fun it was, wasn’t it?” L’Arachel grins. “And to think we get to do it all over again tomorrow! And the next day! And the _next day_! You’ll certainly get your week’s worth of excitement!”

“Think he’s going a little blue there, boss.” Gerik laughs at Ephraim’s horrified expression. “Might wanna go easy on him.”

“No way!” Ephraim wasn’t so weak as to give up after one day of ridiculously hard work. It didn’t help that he was beginning to see the errors of his ways. Er, _words_. “If Innes can do this every day, so can I!”

“I wasn’t aware this was a competition.” Tethys says, eyes narrowing. “You two aren’t trying to one up each other are you? No _‘I’m better than you you can’t do what I do’ silliness’_?”

“Uh…”

“There’s nothing wrong with friendly competition, dear Tethys.” L’Arachel lights up at the idea. “It shows passion! Determination! Intensity!”

“Not if they’re belittling each other’s work, it’s not.” She frowns, eyeing Ephraim critically. “That’s not what’s happening, is it?”

“No…?” She couldn’t be more on the mark, Ephraim realizes guiltily. He was _really_ starting to regret what he said. If this was what Innes dealt with on the daily, he didn’t want to imagine week after week of the same. Everyone at Rausten was nice enough, but working with them was a different playing field entirely.

He missed Seth telling him what to do and getting mad when Ephraim didn’t listen. Missed dragging Forde and Franz into his new ideas, and having Kyle give him that disdainful look he always did when he thought Ephraim was being dumb. It was one thing to be the quirky one in a group, but another thing entirely to be surrounded by the embodiment of ditzy and weird. He missed the strict order. Missed knowing what was happening.

Yeah, he owed Innes an apology. _Big time_.

“Not to worry, Mr. Ephraim. Innes is no fragile porcelain doll. He can handle a verbal sparring like the best of them.” L’Arachel tells him. Ephraim has a feeling she wouldn’t approve of the kind they gave each other. “In any case, thank you all for your hard work. Let’s make tomorrow another good day.”

They are all dismissed. The employees bid one another goodnight, promising to see each other the next day. Ephraim is about to leave but L’Arachel holds him back, beckoning for him to stay.

“What's up?” He asks, curious.

“I wanted to inquire about something.” She tells him, oddly serious. He straightens his posture to match hers. “I know Tethys touched upon it, but I wanted further elaboration. Excuse me for waiting until this moment.”

“No problem.” If they were going to talk about it, Ephraim was actually thankful for her actions. It wasn’t something he wanted to discuss in front of everyone. “What about it?”

“I contacted Innes yesterday. He sounded bothered. As you know, he can be rather tight-lipped when he wants to be. I mentioned your name and he reacted in a manner that made it obvious the problem related to you,” She says. “I do not need any details. I only hope you deal with whatever your problem is.”

“You’re sharp.”

“I’m _concerned_ ,” She corrects him. “Innes is very dear to me. His suffering is my own. I wouldn’t classify this as anything near that extreme, but I do want you to know that…” She pauses. “…that he takes things to heart, whether he realizes it or not. I’m not going to tell you to avoid confrontational issues, because that’s not the problem. What I’m saying is that if you two have had a spat, please speak on civil terms about it. Sometimes he doesn’t hold his tongue as well as he should. I know that very well. And I would hate for your relationship to sour over a few poorly chosen words.”

“I would too.” Ephraim huffs out a weak laugh. “I get it. We both…we’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.” At least, he hoped they could. Maybe meet halfway, even. Wishful thinking, but not entirely impossible.

“I hope so. I don’t think I quite enjoy this gloomy expression on your face,” L’Arachel smiles. “I want to see something more lively. I hope you two get back to clashing with one another soon. It’s great fun to watch.”

“We’ll get back to it soon enough, boss.”

L’Arachel grins.

“I’m looking forward to it.”

She’s a good friend, Ephraim decides. Innes is lucky to have her.He’s relieved she's around him. That she's someone who gets him and sees beyond the snark and icy glares. Someone who cares for every bit of him, pretty or not.

It’s a comfort.

He really should apologize. One of these days he will. Not now, though. Ephraim still has a nasty headache. Feels guilty and tired and sore as he makes his way towards his car.

Hopefully tomorrow would be a better day.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These boys being themselves and not dealing with their emotions //sigh
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	14. Trading Spaces (Part Three)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Innes works out his final duties at Renais.

“Make sure that it’s firmly held together and…” Seth closes the oven, the roast beginning to, well, _roast_. “That’s all.”

“Amazing.” The simplicity. The sheer efficiency. All of it was clear now. “To think it was right in front of me the entire time.”

“As they say, the best answer is often the most obvious. We don’t do anything extreme, only take the basics towards their natural point of conclusion.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Innes writes down the last of his notes. L’Arachel would no doubt be pleased with this wealth of information. He could already think of a variety of ways to implement it into their work. “Thank you for this. I appreciate your time.”

“Thank Eirika. She agreed to this arrangement,” Seth tells him, as stone-faced as ever. When he glances at Innes, it falls away the tiniest bit. “And I suppose it wasn’t a wasted experience. You’ve certainly proved yourself to be competent at your profession.”

“I only do what I can,” Innes waves off the praise. “For what it’s worth, I’ve learned a great deal from you. It’s necessary to take yourself out of what you’ve grown accustomed to in order to gain new perspectives, I find.” He’s also realized they weren’t nearly as efficient as they could be back at Rausten. Seth ran his kitchen like a well-oiled machine. Innes would like to say they did the same, but it simply wasn’t true. He couldn’t begin to imagine where they would even need to start to get anywhere near the level of Renais, as much as it pained him to admit.

Small steps, Innes thinks. Baby minuscule ones the don’t involve someone setting something on fire and Gerik having to break out the extinguisher for the twentieth time.

“Certainly.”

“The uniform was also a new experience.” Innes admires the black fabric, tracing the golden outlines. He’d never thought much of it on Ephraim, too distracted dealing with the man _in_ the clothes to ponder the clothes _themselves_ much, but it was an admittedly flattering color on anyone. There was something almost regal about it.

Not better than Rausten of course, but that was to be expected.

“I’m sure we can arrange for you to continue wearing it.” Seth’s words are implicative, honest with their suggestion. “If that is something you would be interested in.”

“You jest.”

“I do not. You would be more than welcome.”

It’s flattering to say the least. He cannot imagine it being a horrible experience, working here longer. Renais was a wonderful establishment, filled with good people who worked hard and supported one another. Not much different from Rausten. They deserved the recognition, but that wasn’t something Innes was actively working towards or really cared all that much about.

It was nice, but not everything.

Innes doesn’t need to think twice about his answer.

“That’s very kind of you, sir, but my place isn’t here. It would be irresponsible for me to drop everything and leave.”

“Is that what you want?” Seth inquires. “Putting aside what your coworkers will think, is that a choice you are making for your own sake?”

Innes almost laughs.

“As ridiculous as it sounds…yes. It’s of my own volition.”

“It doesn’t sound unfortunate,” Renais’ head chef concedes easily. Innes thinks Seth understands exactly what he feels. “I understand. Know the offer will always be extended.”

“Unnecessary, but I am grateful all the same.”

Seth doesn’t give him anything close to the head or shoulder pats he gives Franz, but Innes would be more disturbed if he did. He can tell they’ve forged a cordial connection and that’s more than he can really ask for.

After finishing up with his main purpose for even being there, he’s sent to the dining area, his task for the final day being that of acting as a server. He won’t be completely out of his depth as he began as one, but he hasn’t done this kind of work in a while which puts him a bit on edge.

Tana greets him cheerfully. Lute is standing next to her, fanning herself with a menu.

“Welcome to the server squad!” Tana grabs a wine glass and a fork. “It’s a pleasure to have you!”

She hits the glass and _immediately_ smashes it into pieces.

The three of them stare at the shattered shards on the floor.

“…Is this your way of getting me to work right away?” Innes chances a question, raising an eyebrow.

“Dust pan is over there.” Lute points down the hall.

.

.

.

“Okay, redo.” Tana clears her throat, this time not picking up any dining ware. Eirika now stands next to her, massaging her temples. “Are you ready to have a good time? Because we’re gonna take orders and be positive and optimistic the entire time!”

“Sounds great.” Sounds horrible actually. Innes makes no attempt to hide it.

“Your enthusiasm needs some work,” His sister pouts. “Remember. Service with a smile. Smile for me… _No_ , that’s kinda diabolical. You want friendly…Um, a bit less?—Not completely!” She prods at his face, forcing the corners of his lips up. He probably looks ridiculous. He can feel the muscles in his face being forced into positions they are unaccustomed with. Lute snorts.

Yeah, he looks dumb. Or at least vaguely terrifying.

“Why don’t we let him figure out how best to accomplish that, Tana?” Eirika says, pulling her away from him. “As long as you aren’t rude, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

“That’s asking for a lot.”

Innes scowls.

“No one asked for your opinion, Tana.”

“See what I mean?”

“She doesn’t because you’re wrong.”

“Am I, brother? _Am I_?”

“Yes.”

“ _No I’m not—!_ ”

“There's no need to bicker,” Eirika interrupts them, facing Innes. “Here’s your apron. There’s a paper pad and a pen in there for writing orders.”

“Thank you.” Innes ties the apron around his waist, resigning himself to a day of full on customer service. “Is there anything in specific I should know?”

“Not really. Do you know the order of the tables?”

“More or less.”

“Good. You don’t need to break your face in half trying to smile but…” Eirika trails off. “Look friendly? Personable?”

“ _Nice._ ” Tana needlessly enunciates the word. Innes flicks her forehead. She pinches his side in return. “Lemme throw a table at him for the drama, Eirika.”

“Let her throw a table at me so I can file a lawsuit.” Innes responds, dodging her attempts to ruin his hair. “I’m suing for everything you own.”

“Hah, jokes on you. I don’t own anything.”

“You own my heated blanket. The one you _stole_.”

“You let me borrow it!”

“ _You took it without telling me._ ”

“Same thing!”

“I’ll be a character witness,” Lute chimes in. “You helped me fix my bike chain once, Tana. I’ll never forget it.”

“Aw, thanks Lute! Eirika, you’ll speak on my behalf too, won’t you?”

“I’d rather not pick a side.” Eirika smiles at their behavior. “I can find someone to represent you, though.”

“Take that!” Tana grins triumphantly at him. “I already have a lawyer booked.”

“Now the joke is on you. So do I.” And Gerik would do a fine job at it as well. And if his arguments couldn’t convince the court, then his charisma most certainly would. Innes would be in good hands.

“All right, enough fun and games.” Eirika straightens out her suit jacket. “If there are any issues, please let me know. Tana, keep sharp.”

“Yes m’am!”

“Lute, don’t ask any odd questions.”

“Does that mean—“

“ _Yes_ , that also includes asking the customers for their blood type to establish whether or not they have the potential to survive a _xenomorph attack_.”

“It’s simple question.” Lute huffs. “And I’m more interested in whether they can properly incubate an egg within their chest as of right now.”

“That’s gross.” Tana tells her point blank. Lute merely shrugs.

“I don’t think a xenomorph would care either way what we think.”

“Innes,” Eirika turns to him. “I hope this last day is a helpful experience for you. You may not feel like doing this, but I think it’s an important part of the business that deserves its fair share of respect.”

“I agree. Worry not. I won’t recklessly allow your hard work to fall to ruin. You have my word.”

“ _Yeah_.” Tana places her hands on her hips. “Worst case scenario he’ll start micromanaging the way the customers eat with their forks. What is it? Inward out?”

“ _Outward in._ ”

“Okay grandma.”

“Don’t be insolent.”

“Don’t act like you’re at retirement age.”

“It’s basic dining etiquette.”

“More like _lame_ dining etiquette.”

“You work at a place that utilizes them.” Innes says incredulously.

Tana sticks her nose up.

“I don’t conform to societal structures. No offense, Eirika.”

“I don’t enforce any particular societal structure so it doesn’t offend me.”

“I am ninety-eight percent sure most of the people who come here don’t have any idea what that etiquette is anyway.” Lute frowns, counting her fingers. “…Actually, ninety-eight point two. Yeah. It doesn’t even matter.”

“That doesn’t make it any less important.” Eirika’s point is sage. “Keep that in mind and work hard.”

 

* * *

 

Innes has another fairly pleasant day.

His previous experience as a waiter helps him immensely in dealing with customers. Thankfully, most of the diners he serves are polite and gracious, asking for his opinions or recommendations on what they should have. Innes answers to the best of his ability. He hasn’t actually tried much of anything on the menu despite having cooked the vast majority of it the past few days, but he trusts his gut instincts and speaks from what he knows. He gets a decent amount of tips, making a note to have Tana and Lute split it between themselves. It wouldn’t feel right to take it when he didn’t even work at Renais.

Things are going well.

_Until they aren’t._

Innes is walking back towards the kitchen when he happens to catch sight of Lute speaking to a customer who’s a bit too riled up for it to be polite conversation. He isn’t initially going to intervene, sure that Lute can handle whatever the problem is, but one look at her uncomfortable expression has him immediately changing course in her direction.

“Is something the matter?” He asks once he’s close enough, grabbing their attention.

“Is something the matter? _Is something the matter?_ Of course there is!” The woman seems furious. Innes steels himself, expecting an angry tirade. Within seconds he’s instantly thinking out a variety of different ways to tackle whatever they’re both about to be yelled at for. He couldn’t make Eirika look bad. He had to be smart. He had to—

“She hasn’t shown up yet!” The woman cries out, burying her face in her hands. “I’m such an idiot! What was I expecting?”

…Okay, so this wasn’t going to go the way he expected. Surprising, but preferable to enraged screaming.

Maybe.

Lute sighs beside him.

“I’ve been trying to get her to order but she’s too upset. Says she’s waiting for someone but it’s been two hours. All I did was tell her whoever is supposed to be here isn’t coming. That’s pretty obvious.”

Not exactly the best way to handle it, but Innes wasn’t known for his delicacy either.

“I thought…I thought we spoke about trying to work through things,” The woman snivels. “That we wanted to try and talk everything out…I guess nothing is as simple as that, huh?”

“Not really,” Lute responds. “Humans are capricious. Just because something is said one day doesn’t mean it will be followed through with the next. It was foolish of you to assume otherwise.”

Another sob wracks the woman’s body.

“Why did I think she would forgive me for everything? That she wouldn’t hold it all against me?“ Her voice cracks. “This is her answer, isn’t it?”

“Should we leave?” Lute asks in a low tone, grimacing. She clearly isn’t interested in dealing with the situation. “Let her deal with…whatever this is?”

“That would be the ideal course of action. However—“

Another wail. Innes can only barely hold himself back from bashing his head against the wall.

_What a pain._

“M’am,” Innes starts off with more bite than he should. “If you are not going to order anything, it would be advisable to leave. This table cannot be held up because—“

“I can’t leave! What if she comes by and I’m not here? She’ll think I’m not willing to meet in the middle!”

“ _It’s been two hours_.” Lute mutters.

“Have you tried contacting this person?” Innes asks. This was becoming ridiculous. He could feel the gazes of other diners directed at this melodrama. “Perhaps they forgot about the date or are unsure of the location?”

“She’s the one that invited me!”

“And there are no extenuating circumstances that could have caused their tardiness?”

“How would I know?” Finally tired of crying, the woman dejectedly plays with the paper wrapping of her straw. “I _should_ leave. Not like any of this was worth the effort anyway. Probably better to give up while we’re ahead…”

“Give up?” Innes repeats, eyes furrowing. “You’re going to give up after making this big show in public?”

“What else can I do?” The stranger wipes her eyes. “If she won’t show up, I’ll go home and forget all of this.”

“You probably should.” Lute agrees. Innes cannot tell whether she’s purposefully attempting to be scathing or if it’s completely unintentional. “Romantic relationships are troublesome from what I’ve gathered.”

“ _She’s_ the one whose troublesome.” The woman gets up to leave. “I mean, why is she making me wait on her. I’m above that.”

Now, this clearly personal problem isn’t _any_ of Innes’s business. There isn’t any need for him to give his invaluable two cents on it and especially not while he’s on the clock. This is Eirika’s restaurant. He can’t just say whatever he wants.

But when something bothers him, it _gnaws_ at him. He can’t let that statement go uncommented on.

He really should work on keeping his mouth shut.

“Are you really?” He questions, watching the woman’s retreating back. “If anything, it sounds as though you’re too cowardly to make the first step.”

She stops in place, hand on purse tightening. The woman slowly turns around, eyes flaring.

“…Excuse me?”

Innes hardens his gaze.

“I said you’re a coward.”

“I’m _not_."

“You are running off without any plans to contact her. What other word is there to describe this?”

“She’s the one who’s making _me_ wait! _She_ was supposed to—”

“—Why does _she_ need to be the one to fix everything?” Innes spits back. The woman flinches, as if stung by his words. “You said something about meeting in the middle. Expecting her to plan and set everything up for the both of you isn’t that. Blaming her for not putting in the effort, when you clearly have similar issues doesn’t justify anything.”

“What am I supposed to do about it?” The woman yells back at him. “I can’t just—I can’t just call her and…” She trails off, biting her lip. “…Well, I guess I can do that, huh?”

“Yes.”

“B-But what if she doesn’t answer me?”

“Get out of here and go to her!” Innes wants to pull at his hair. How oblivious could this person be? “ _Explain yourself. Get your own feelings on the matter across_. If neither of you can find any reasons to continue on with each other, respectfully end it there. But if you have reason to give it a shot, the least you can do is _try_.”

“You…You’re r _ight_!” The woman shouts, her posture straightening. “I can’t believe this! I’m not someone who wallows and expects others to do things for her. I’m my own self-made woman! I’ve dealt with blood-thirsty investors and made them beg to call their mommies!” She clenches her fists. “I can deal with my own relationships! Thanks, nosy waiter man! And nihilistic waiter woman! I can do this! I can—“ She turns, stopping abruptly. “…Oh.”

“Uh…” The new arrival looks between the wilted flowers in her hands and the surprised self-made woman. “…Sorry I’m late?” She laughs nervously. “I, um, I could explain why but that would take too long so I just want you to know I’m—“

“No,” Theother woman shakes her head. “This is on both of us. I should have spoken to you earlier. I shouldn’t have made you feel like everything was on you to fix.”

“Yeah, you’re kinda bad at telling me what’s going on with you…”

“And you’re _kinda bad_ at not recklessly getting yourself into easily avoidable trouble.”

“Hehe…I guess we’re both kinda bad.”

“Yes. We are.” Both women laugh. The recent arrival holds her flowers out.

“If we’re still on…” She looks hopeful.

“This isn’t what I would call anywhere near adequate,” The once teary eyed customer says as she takes them, expression softening a bit at the other’s crestfallen face. “But I suppose we have time to get it right.”

“So, um, can I…?”

“Come here, Florina.” The flowers are set to the side, arms motioning for a hug.

“Oh, Serra!” The smaller woman hugs her tightly.

The entire dining room breaks into applause, whistling and hooting. Innes can see tears being shed, diners hugging and comforting one another.

“ _Incredible_.” Lute says to him, amazed by the display. _”_ You must be some kind of…propagator of motivation. You reconciled a couple within seconds.”

Innes can’t hide his grimace.

“Please don’t phrase it that way.”

“You’re a magic man.”

“That’s even worse.”

“Love doctor?”

“ _Just take their order._ ”

Lute, for better or for worse, seems intrigued by the entire ordeal. She’s giving him a look he can only recognize as more trouble than it’s worth.

He should have kept his mouth shut.

Good for the happy couple, though.

 

* * *

 

Innes knocks on the office door.

“Pardon me. May I enter?”

“Come in.”

He opens the door slowly, gaze falling upon a seated Eirika flipping through a thick binder. Surprisingly, the office is cluttered. Innes needs to take careful steps around the room so as to not crush anything beneath his feet. The desk is even worse, drowning in paperwork, notes, and folders.

“Sorry about this,” She says sheepishly, noticing his raised eyebrow. “I haven’t gotten around to cleaning anything up. I take it L’Arachel’s isn’t anywhere near this bad?”

“Not at all. The slightest speck of dust and she’s breaking out the handheld vacuum. It’s a little ridiculous.”

“I’m embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. L’Arachel is…L’Arachel.”

“The only explanation there can be.” Eirika laughs. “I have a feeling she’s the reason you can deal with even the oddest of circumstances so easily. I’m a little jealous.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Innes dealt with things in whatever way he saw fit. And it wasn’t as if everyone was always receptive to his input. He’d had his fair share of insults hurled back at him in response. “But I will admit she’s desensitized me a great deal. There’s never a bland day when it comes to her.”

“You’ll never be bored.”

“I’m not sure whether that’s a blessing or a curse.” L’Arachel’s answer would be obvious. Innes would maybe be inclined to agree. _Maybe_. “In any case, I wanted to tell you I will be taking my leave. Thank you for arranging all of this. I apologize for any inconvenience.”

“Don’t be silly,” Eirika waves away his modesty. “You helped me out a lot. Everyone was happy to have you around.”

“I can tell.” His cellphone was now equipped with a few new numbers on their insistence. Forde had already sent him a barrage of unfunny memes in honor of their friendship. “I appreciate it nevertheless.”

“You’re welcome but…if I’m being honest, I thought you would be nothing but trouble.” Eirika admits. “I assumed you would barge in and start ordering everyone around. I’m glad I was wrong.”

Rather than becoming annoyed, Innes finds great comedic value in her guilty expression. Enough to make him laugh, much to Eirika’s surprise.

“What an impression of me. I don’t blame you. That’s precisely what happens at Rausten. My coworkers do not lend themselves to order and practicality, meaning I often make abrasive demands of them. None of them take me seriously, but I can understand others seeing me as somewhat of a pain.”

“I think a bit too serious for your own good is a better way to describe it,” Eirika offers amicably. “I don’t think anyone minds you behaving that way. If anything, I wish a bit of that severity would rub off on my brother,” She sighs. “He’s a bit of a loose canon when it comes to most things. I’d like it if he could learn from you.”

“No sooner will he stop subjecting us to his horrid fashion sense than refrain from being who he is.”

“It’s not _that_ bad.”

“Biased opinion will not be taken into consideration.”

“ _Fine_.” Eirika huffs. “It’s horrible and I wish he would stop. Flannel is great, but not like _that._ ”

“He does it on purpose.”

“He _so_ does,” Eirika giggles pleasantly. “Maybe some time off will give him the space to rethink his life choices.”

“Hopefully.” Innes answers before actually processing what she’s said. “…Excuse me. Time off?”

“Yes. Although I wish it didn’t have to happen like this.”

“What exactly is happening?”

“You don’t know?” Eirika frowns. “Huh. That’s strange. I thought you two spoke often.”

“Not at the moment.”

“Oh. I see. Well, he’s sick right now and won’t be in for the next week. We’ll manage but I’m sure he isn’t very happy about it.”

“Sick…Is it—How?”

“You’re going to need to be a little more specific.”

Innes presses his lips together.

He does not like the meaningful glint in Eirika’s eye. It reminds him of what Kyle suggested, and that’s not a thought he feels all that comfortable entertaining at the moment.

“Never mind.”

“Are you sure? It’s all right to ask. Whatever happened, I can assure you he wouldn’t mind you worrying.”

“I’m not worried.” Innes snaps. “Why would I be? He’s capable of caring for himself.”

“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to drop in and see how he is. Do you have his address?”

“…No.”

“Would you like to have it? I can call ahead so he knows you’re stopping by.”

“That’s not…” Innes bites his lip, stomach churning. “I _can’t_.”

“Why?”

“He won’t want to see me.”

A snort accidentally escapes Eirika. She clears her throat in an attempt to cover it up.

“I don’t think that’s true, but if you change your mind, here it is.”

And that’s how Innes gets Eirika’s number as well.

Thankfully, she isn’t annoying like her brother, opting for a flower emoji beside her name. Innes thinks it suits her.

The text message sent his way burns a hole in his pocket the entire way home. He tells himself that he isn’t concerned about Ephraim. That he’ll be as good as new and back to normal in no time.

Not talking to Innes in no time.

“It’s fine.” He says to himself when he reaches his apartment door.

“It’s fine.” He garbles as he brushes his teeth.

 _“He’s fine._ ” He tells Frelia once they’re curled up in bed. She ignores him.

_Ephraim is fine._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how about that Serra/Florina y'all? they're my two favorite fe7 girls and I thought it'd be cute can't wait for their wedding
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!


	15. Trading Spaces (Final Part)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Innes takes the next step. Revelations are had.

Innes stares down at the address on his phone with dread.

He’s a bit irritated with himself. That morning he was completely sure he would be doing anything _but_ thinking about what Eirika had told him. Likely relaxing at home in the company of his sweet Frelia.

And yet, here he was, standing in front of an apartment complex likely worth more than Innes could ever hope to make in his entire lifetime. Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. And all for the sake of _that man._

What a bad idea on his part.

Ephraim wasn’t a child. He didn’t need to be coddled or cared for. And even if he did, Innes should be the _last person_ to provide that sort of comfort for him. There was no good reason to be here. In fact, what Innes _should_ be doing is leaving and forgetting all about this entire ordeal while he still has the chance.

Which is exactly why he doesn’t look anywhere but forward, taking a deep breath to steel his resolve as he walks up to the door phone outside the complex. Once he finds the correct door number, Innes is millimeters away from pressing it before hesitation strikes.

He really had no obligation to do any of this. If Eirika hadn’t mentioned it, he wouldn’t be here in the first place. And what exactly was he planning to do if he _was_ allowed entrance? Tell Ephraim to feel better and leave?

What was he attempting to accomplish here?

 _I’m just checking to see if he’s alive_ , Innes tells himself. _A quick look and nothing more._ Besides, the likely scenario was Ephraim over-exaggerating a stray sneeze he had. Innes would throw a fit over his stupidity and naturally have an excuse to leave after ensuring his wellness. Everything would be fine.

Feeling a bit more confident, Innes sets aside his initial concerns and rings the no doubt highly-advanced and expensive intercom system.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits some more.

Perhaps it would have been prudent to call ahead of time? There was a chance nobody was home in the first place. People often went to the doctor when they were sick. Surely Ephraim was no different.

He nearly presses the bell again when a gravely and baritone voice comes through the speaker, surprising him.

“ _Who’s this?_ ” It demands. _That_ certainly wasn’t Ephraim. Had Eirika given him the wrong information? Unlikely, but possible. He steals a quick glance at his phone again to confirm that, no, he hadn’t misinterpreted what she wrote.

“Pardon me. Is Ephraim in?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I’m not giving my name to someone I cannot see.”

There’s silence, followed by a strange tinkling noise.

“He is.” The voice is suddenly much higher pitched, girlish in nature. “You can come up.”

The door buzzes, unlocking for him. Innes casts one last look at the intercom before entering.

.

.

.

“Welcome!”

“That was you?”

Myrrh locks the door behind them, smiling. She shows him a device resembling a megaphone in her grip.

“It’s a voice synthesizer. Dad got it for me in case anyone weird rings the bell. Not that you’re weird! I just—I saw you through the camera and thought it’d be funny to fool you. You’re not mad, are you?”

“Only surprised.” He really should have known Myrrh would be here. For some reason he assumed she would have been handed off to a family member while Ephraim fought off whatever was ailing him. Maybe he really wasn’t sick and only playing hooky. “Keep it handy. That’s very useful.”

“I will.” She walks ahead of him. “Please, come in! I wasn’t expecting anyone to drop by.”

“I wasn’t either.” He mutters under his breath, following Myrrh further inside.

Come to think of it, this was his first time stepping into Ephraim’s home. Part of him always assumed the man merely disappeared into a tear in the universe whenever they weren’t together and reappeared whenever he felt like it.

Ephraim having a home. What a concept.

The actual place is nice. Innes isn’t surprised by the lack of lavish furnishings. Everything from the sofa, to the carpet, to the slippers Myrrh insists he put on at the door have a homey touch to them. There are knick-knacks scattered on everything, things he can tell are exclusively Ephraim or Myrrh or both of their touches. It’s jarring given how the rest of the complex appears, but not unexpected. Besides the car, Ephraim never showed much interest in excessively expensive and luxurious goods. His clothing always appeared well worn, a faded quality that could only be associated with excessive washings. His destinations of choice were rarely exclusive and generally unknown. His favorite foods were as common as they came, his deep affection for soft pretzels admittedly a little endearing.

Only a little.

Innes may or may not have prepared a batch before he came over.

What really catches his attention is the floor to ceiling window. He can’t help but be drawn to it, the view of the city square beautiful this early in the afternoon. The citizenry resemble ants from his position, milling about as they go about their daily lives.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Myrrh comments, standing beside him. “When I first came here, I used to always sit close by. It’s even nicer at night, because you can see all the city lights.”

“I can imagine.”

They stare out together, a peaceful silence settling over them.

“…”

“…”

“…Oh my gosh! I should take your bag!” Myrrh suddenly exclaims, turning to him. “I’m being a bad host!”

“It’s quite all right.” Innes shrugs it off, setting it beside the sofa. “I came without contacting you ahead of time. There’s no need to worry about formalities.”

“You didn’t tell Dad you were coming?” Myrrh’s confusion is obvious. “Why?”

“It was very last minute,” He’s not about to tell Myrrh anything that transpired between them lest she worry herself over it. “Eirika told me he was ill.”

“He is. He had a really bad fever last night.”

“Has he improved?”

“I don’t know. He’s still in bed. Was sleeping the last time I checked on him.”

“Which was?”

“This morning.” Myrrh frowns. “He keeps telling me not to come in.”

“He doesn’t want you to catch whatever he has.”

“I know.” She looks none too happy about his explanation. “But if I can’t help him, who will?”

It wasn’t really his problem. Myrrh had confirmed her father was still among the living. Innes could leave on the basis of not wanting to disturb him. The door was right there.

“Would it be all right if _I_ checked on him?” It wouldn’t hurt to make extra sure he was okay.

“Would you?” Myrrh clasps her hands together. “That’d be real nice of you, Mr. Innes. But what if you catch it, too? That wouldn’t be good.”

“I should be fine.” He hoped so, at least.

Myrrh doesn’t question him any further and the two make their way to her father’s bedroom door. There are stickers and drawings tacked onto it, no doubt her doing.

“That one is a dragon with a top hat.” She points to the one highest on the door. “He’s going to a fancy party with his other dragon friends.”

“It’s a lovely piece of art.”

“Thank you.” Myrrh preens happily at the praise. “We should probably knock first. To be polite.”

Innes does so.

A barely audible groan follows.

“I think that means come in.” Myrrh translates. Innes defers to her expertise in Ephraim speak.

They step inside the room. The shades are drawn. A bundle of comforters are bunched up on the bed, shifting slightly from the movements of the individual buried beneath them. One is slipping onto the floor, revealing a sock covered foot.

“ _Myrrh_.” Ephraim manages to rasp out, his voice low and scratchy. Hm. Seems Innes was wrong about him faking his illness. “I’ll be fine. Need to sleep it off. Don’t cry.”

“Wasn’t crying.” The girl herself mumbles from beside Innes. “My eyes were sweating.”

“The very least you could do is cover yourself the right way.” Innes sighs, walking towards the bedside to take in his appearance. “You look horrible.”

Ephraim blinks slowly.

“Am I dying?”

“If you are, be sure I’ll drag you back from the afterlife to give you a sound thrashing for it.” In one swift movement, Innes tears all of the blankets off at once, leaving Ephraim to helplessly curl up into a ball for warmth.

“ _Definitely hell_.” He mutters, teeth chattering.

“Relax. They were falling off.” Meticulously, Innes takes each comforter and covers Ephraim with them properly, ensuring every layer is enveloping his entire body. “Diagnosis?”

“Common cold.”

“Have you seen a doctor?”

“No.”

“Temperature?”

“High. Not deadly.”

“I see.” Innes files all of the information away bit by bit. “Have you eaten?”

“Not hungry.”

“Sleep well?”

“Not really.”

“He was coughing and sneezing a whole lot.” Myrrh, ever the helpful soul, informs him. She looks at her father curiously. “He’s kinda sweaty.”

“A fever does that.” Innes replies, placing a hand on Ephraim’s forehead. “You’re quite warm. Are your clothes dry?”

“Gross n’icky.” Ephraim grimaces, face buried in his pillow. “Wanna change.”

“All right,” Innes catches sight of the bowl of water on the nightstand, a moist rag soaking within it. “Myrrh, I have a task for you.”

“Really?” She stands at the ready, determined to be helpful in any way she can. “What is it?”

“Can you refill this with cool water?”

“I can! I can do that!”

“Without spilling anything?”

“Without spilling anything. Got it.” Myrrh takes it, brows furrowed with determination as she slowly pads out of the room, careful not to allow a single droplet fall to the floor. Innes sets about finding a fresh set of clothing.

“Where is your lounge wear?”

“In that crate.” Ephraim weakly points to a laundry basket on the floor.

“Didn’t bother to put it away?” Innes picks what he can make out as a sweatshirt and flannel pants. The lack of any lighting really wasn’t helping, but he doubted Ephraim would be all right with him turning on any light source at the moment.

“Hate laundry.” Ephraim is already sitting up when Innes returns, pulling off his shirt. Innes quickly tosses the clothing onto the bed and busies himself with looking elsewhere. The corner of the room is sort of interesting, what with how bare and empty it is. Innes’s own room had an ironing board in one if its corners.

“Don’t we all?”

“Bet you’re good at it. You’re good at everything.” Ephraim is so disoriented, he’s attempting to jam his head through the sleeve opening. Innes takes pity on him once he notices.

“Not really.” He responds quietly, positioning the shirt correctly. Ephraim’s head pops out through its appropriate space, his arms slipping into the sleeves shortly after. “Do I need to help with your pants as well?”

He receives a damp sweatshirt to the face in retaliation. _There_ was that typical brutish behavior. Having spotted a hamper earlier, he tosses the clothing into it, barely dodging a pair of sweatpants coming his way to join the rest of the unwashed garments.

“Impressive. Your hand-eye coordination remains unaffected.”

Ephraim seems ready to respond when a coughing fit overtakes him. The wheezing is enough to make even Innes flinch.

“Hurts.” The sick man lies down again, rubbing at his chest.

“Would you like some tea?” The gagging sound he hears is more than enough of an answer. “Unfortunately, there is very little I can do for you. Try not to work yourself up.”

“Okay.”

“After you sleep, you should try to eat something. It won’t get any better if you don’t have anything in your stomach.”

“Mhm.”

“A warm shower is also in order.”

“Mm.”

“…Are you listening?”

“…Wha…?”

Speaking to him in his current state would be of no use. Instead, Innes falls silent, reaching over to smooth Ephraim’s hair back away from his face. The coolness of his hand must be somewhat alleviating, because he lets out a contented breath.

“Get some rest.” Innes says to him. “I…I can look after Myrrh. If it’s necessary.”

“Would you?” The familiarity of the phrase sneaks a smile out of Innes. “Thanks.”

“There’s no need for thanks. I simply do not think you’re in any position to do anything yourself right now.”

Ephraim laughs sleepily.

“M’not.”

“I got the water!” Myrrh whispers loudly, tip-toeing back into the room. “Super chilly and ice cold.”

“Excellent. You’ve done well.” Innes takes the bowl and places it on the side table. He wrings out the cloth and sets it onto Ephraim’s forehead. “One of us will be back to steep this periodically.”

“We will?” Myrrh asks happily. “As in, me too?”

“Yes? Why wouldn’t that include you?”

“Hehe, no reason.”

“…Right. We’ll leave you to your sleep. If you need anything, call. I doubt your voice can carry very far at the moment.” Innes is going to make his exit, a sudden grip on his wrist preventing him from moving another step.

“I—I want to—Can you—?“ Ephraim stammers, fighting against his congestion. “Just—Hold up, can’t breathe through my nose.”

It’s pathetically pitiful, to witness Ephraim’s usual swagger be reduced to nothing over a simple cold. To see his face flushed red with fever, strands of hair matted to his forehead with sweat, eyes glazed over with exhaustion, his attempts at speech thwarted by his own body’s attempts at fighting off whatever virus he’s contracted.

Innes should be appalled. Cringing in disgust. Desperately attempting to protect himself from catching the virus.

For all intents and purposes, Ephraim _shouldn’t_ appear this charming when he’s this gross looking.

Innes tries very hard to convince himself the feeling welling up within him is pity and not some form of endeared compassion. That there is nothing surfacing at the edges of his awareness. Nothing bothersome. Nothing seeing Ephraim so weakened should provoke.

Nothing seeing him like this should clarify.

“Go to sleep.” Innes looks away, shaking off the hand. “…We’ll have time to talk later.”

“…Okay.” Ephraim tucks his arm underneath the blankets again, eyes fluttering shut. “Okay.”

Innes guides Myrrh out of the room, softly shutting the door behind them.

“What now?” She asks.

“Have you eaten yet?” Innes inquires.

“I had cereal earlier.”

“Can you wait until lunch?” That way he could prepare something for the both of them along with Ephraim. Anything light on the stomach would have to do.

“I can.” Myrrh bounces on her heels. “You’re going to need the kitchen for lunch though, aren’t you?”

“Presumably.”

“Our kitchen isn’t…very…ready?”

“What?”

Myrrh shows him exactly what she means.

The sink and counter are cluttered with piles of dishes and plastic containers. Pots and pans inundate the stove top, garbage is piling up, and cabinets are pulled open without any regard for how much worse it makes everything else look.

“I said I could help, but Dad said he would do it when he was better.”

“Is it usually like this?”

“Not really. We’re usually really on top of things.” Myrrh tells him. “He’s been really tired this week. Probably because he was getting sick.”

“Hm.” Innes feels a smidgen guilty for being skeptical of Ephraim’s ability to keep his household in order. Ephraim was many things, but half-hearted when it came to the things he cared about wasn’t one of them. “What of your laundry?”

“It’s, um, it’s all in the laundry room.”

“Have you mopped the floors and polished the windows yet?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I see. You asked ‘what now’. I think the answer is obvious.” Innes rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. “Today is a day for chores. Of course, this means I may require your assistance. Would that be all right?”

“For sure!” Myrrh rolls of her own sleeves. Or what little there is of them. She happens to be wearing a short-sleeved shirt. “I’m ready to be a good assistant.”

“I would prefer an equal partnership.”

If she wasn’t already bursting from the seams with excitement before, she certainly was now.

“We’re partners!”

“Correct. Now, first on our list is to get this kitchen in order. I will wash and rinse, you will dry and put away. We can deal with everything else as we go along.”

“Got it.”

They get to work.

Innes borrows a pair of rubber gloves he finds in a cabinet and, together with Myrrh, they get through the dishes efficiently. He learns that she and Ephraim tend to do these tasks together whenever they find the chance, and how it’s time she enjoys spending with him.

“He says it’s more fun when we can do boring stuff like chores together. I think so, too.”

“You don’t find it a hassle?” Innes loathed being sent to do anything by his parents when he was a child, most of all the dishes. He would complain the entire time about how little they understood or respected him. Tana would whine alongside him but one stern look from their mother and they were back to scrubbing, albeit begrudgingly.

“I like it.” Myrrh says with a smile. “I think it’s nice when someone trusts me with helping.”

“Adults can be rather patronizing, can’t they?”

“What does that mean?”

“When someone makes it seems as though they are doing you a favor, but it comes across as them thinking very little of you.”

“Oh. Yeah! Definitely!” Myrrh nods vigorously. “Dad never does that. He doesn’t like it when people treat him like that, so he says I should speak my mind if I don’t agree with something he says.”

“I always disliked it when I was underestimated.”

“When you were my age?”

“Yes.”

“My age…” Myrrh repeats in awe. “Mr. Innes as a kid…I can’t imagine it.”

“I do not blame you. The Jurassic period was very long ago, after all.”

“You sound like my grandpa.” She giggles. “He’s always making jokes about how old he is.”

“Strange. My father refuses to acknowledge he’s a day over twenty-five.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Once the dishes are finished, they set about tackling the laundry.

Thankfully the laundry room is a beacon for the pristine and orderly. Most of the clothing is already separated into different colors and ready to be washed and dried.

“I think my opinion of your father has risen a significant amount,” Innes says, watching Myrrh skillfully apply the correct settings for the color load. It’s impressive how well she knows herself around basic household activities. “Did he teach you to do this?”

“Yes. He said it’s important to be able to do it for myself when I’m older. That way I don’t need to rely on anyone to do it for me.”

“It makes sense.” Innes glances around the room, doing a double take when he notices the shelves. His jaw drops. “Are those—Those are _labeled!_ He’s labeled each shelf for _different cleaning products_? And—Does he buy in _bulk_?”

“He says it’s cheaper in the long-run.”

“ _Who does he think he is_?” Innes growls. “How dare he upstage me like this?”

“Do you like it?”

“ _Of course I do_. It’s amazing. I cannot wait to give him _a piece of my mind._ ”

“Teehee.” Myrrh grins, passing him a mop from the perfectly organized closet. “This is a super secret, but I think it’s okay to tell you. Everyone thinks Aunt Eirika is the tidy and neat one and Dad is the messy one, but it’s kinda the opposite.”

“Really?” It certainly explained the state of Eirika’s office. What an interesting contrast between their personalities.

“Uh-huh.” Myrrh’s eyes glint mischievously. “Did you know? Dad can’t stand it when someone uses the same spreading knife for the peanut butter _and_ the jelly.”

“Unbelievable.”

“It’s true.”

“Thank you for this information. I plan on mocking him for it later.”

“That’s not very nice, Mr. Innes.”

While the laundry cycles, they work on mopping. Myrrh skates around with her socks and nearly knocks into a table if it isn’t for Innes’s stopping her in the knick of time. Vacuuming the carpet follows, which doesn’t take very long considering the living room is the only place that has one. Then comes drying and more washing and by late afternoon, both he and Myrrh have finished getting everything in order.

“Nice job, partner!” Myrrh high-fives him. She takes a look at the clock hanging on the wall, and to Innes’s surprise, gives him a look that is one-hundred percent Ephraim. “Dad and I usually get things done much faster, but I guess this is okay.”

“Is that a challenge, young lady?”

Myrrh smiles innocently.

“ _May_ be. You’ll have to come back our next chore day to find out.”

“I’ll think about it. For now, I’ll start on cooking.”

“And I’ll go check on the slugabed.”

With a plan set in motion, they each go about their duties. Innes has somewhat an idea of what to do for lunch. His mother always went with the ever classic vegetable soup whenever he and Tana were ill, and it was something he still did for himself to that day. It would offer the nutrients to aid an immune system and was relatively simple to make while being easy on the digestive system. Innes has slight reservations about raiding Ephraim’s refrigerator for ingredients, but figures the man himself probably wouldn’t mind it all that much if he was expecting Innes to look after Myrrh in the first place.

To his delight, it’s filled to the brim with exactly everything he needs to put together a decent meal. Innes offers silent thanks to the strange enigma currently snoozing away a few doors down the hall and gets to cooking.

Myrrh returns shortly after but Innes ends up telling her to go watch television. She’s resistant at first, but once he lists out a few names of shows he knows Tiki enjoys, one of them must catch her attention, for she finally pads off to the living room.

It isn’t that he wouldn’t enjoy her help. He simply assumes she must be tuckered out from their work all morning.

Finding the needed utensils doesn’t take long, Innes taking note of everything’s exact locations lest Ephraim suffer cardiac arrest at the sight of a disorganized kitchen. Soon vegetables are chopped, water reaches an appropriate temperature, and Innes is stirring everything together, setting the the top back onto the pot to allow it to simmer. He retrieves his bag at one point, Myrrh making a noise of annoyance when he passes in front of the television. He sets the container of pretzels on the kitchen counter.

Part of him is tempted to toss them out, as it’s probably the last thing Ephraim should be eating (and also because he’s no closer to reconciling what prompted him to _want_ to spoil Ephraim with pretzels and the rather terrifying realization he’s been failing to bury within the recesses of his mind that day but no big deal). Unfortunately, wasting perfectly good food isn’t something he’s willing to do, so he sets it aside to deal with later.

It’s about forty-five minutes later when he’s responding to a text message from an angry L’Arachel about a program she’s watching that Myrrh walks into the kitchen, her father following behind with a groggy, but more well-rested expression on his face.

“I’m back.” Myrrh greets him, hopping onto a seat at the kitchen island. “And so is the sleepy-head.”

“And how is the so-called sleepy-head feeling?”

“Better.” His voice is still raspy. It would probably take a day or two to get back to normal. “My head doesn’t feel like it’s about to split in two.” Ephraim takes a seat beside Myrrh, rubbing his eyes. “Still feeling like shi—“ He draws out the sound, grasping for a better phrase. Myrrh tilts her head innocently. “— _shirataki noodles.”_

“Oh? And what does that feel like?” Innes asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Like a noodle.”

“Like all wiggly?” Myrrh asks. “Because you’re feeling weak and not strong?”

“Exactly. See? You know me so we- _we_ —“ Ephraim sneezes into his elbow, grimacing. “…well.”

“Hehe, your nose is really red.” Myrrh pokes it. “Boop.”

“Maybe I’ll finally get my dream job as present delivery man for Winter’s Envoy. Wanna be my copilot?”

“Sure!”

“Nice. And Innes can drive the sled— _Oh wait._ ”

“A comedian, are you?” Innes scowls. Ephraim grins.

“Nah. Just a dad. Tends to develop within seconds of knowing you’ve got a kid.”

“Every gift has its downsides. You have my condolences, Myrrh.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Innes. I laugh even if what he says isn’t funny.”

“ _Daughter_.” Ephraim fakes a hurt expression. “How can you say that? And in my time of need?”

“You look okay to me.”

“Because I _am_ —“ Another coughing fit immediately follows, Ephraim groaning afterwards. “I’ll shut up now.” He wheezes.

“Good, because this should be just about done.” Innes opens the lid of the pot, stirring the soup with a ladle. The pleasant scent wafts around the kitchen, indicating its readiness. “I expect you to finish this. No complaints.”

“Mhm.”

Innes says that, but ladles an amount he believes should appear appetizing. A simple and yet not always utilized technique for serving food. Too little and a diner wouldn’t leave satisfied. Too much and the diner would feel full from just one look, leaving the plate unfinished. The same usually followed for getting children to finish their plates, something he learned from caring for Tiki. Ephraim wasn’t a child, but it wouldn’t hurt to try and get him to ask for seconds rather than leaving the bowl uneaten. He does the same for Myrrh, placing their meals in front of them.

“Thank you, Mr. Innes.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. Anything requests for beverages?”

Ephraim points to the refrigerator.

“There’s a pitcher of juice in there. Mind getting some for us?”

Innes retrieves it, taking note of the deep burgundy color.

“What exactly is this?”

“It’s a mix of different berries.” Ephraim answers, blowing at his spoon. “Just something I make at home.”

“You should try some.” Myrrh suggests. “It’s very good.”

Innes pours a cup for the three of them, curious about the homemade beverage. He takes a sip.

_He immediately regrets it for all the wrong reasons._

An explosion of sweet, tanginess envelops Innes’s taste buds in velvety perfection. He can taste a hint of every single fruit blended together, working in complete harmony. Embarrassingly enough, he lets out a strange squeaking sound, overcome by the flavor of an ambrosia so divine, he’s almost shaking.

In fact, he _is_ shaking.

“What right do you have to do this?” Innes manages to choke out, savoring another sip. “ _Heavens,_ this is unbelievable.”

Ephraim slurps his soup obnoxiously.

“Good, huh? Way better than drinking straight up corn syrup and sugar.”

“You’ve ruined everything for me. I hope you’re happy.”

“Kinda. Are you planning on eating, too? Or, uh, drinking?” Ephraim’s brows furrow. “Do you eat soup or drink it?”

“I think it depends on if it’s in a cup or a bowl and if you’re using a spoon or not.” Myrrh answers. “I don’t know. Do you know, Mr. Innes?”

“…”

“Mr. Innes?”

“…Pardon me?” Innes is too busy pouring himself another cup of juice to answer. “What was that?”

Ephraim and Myrrh share a smile.

“It’s nothing.”

 

* * *

 

After they’re finished eating and Ephraim has showered, Myrrh presents them with a suggestion to pass the time.

“A game?”

“Uno!” She places the deck on the coffee table, taking a seat on the floor. They’ve moved the furniture to the side at her insistence. Or rather, _Innes has_ on account of Ephraim playing up his cold, laughing merrily at the sight of him doing manual labor while he lounges on the floor. It ends in Ephraim nearly hacking out a lung which makes Innes feel a bit better about it. “I think it’ll be fun. Do you know how to play?”

“I have an idea.” Joshua never went anywhere without at least five different decks of cards on his person. Uno was usually amongst the mix. He takes a seat beside Myrrh and across from Ephraim. “Deal them.”

“Why don’t you deal them?” Myrrh slides the pack over to him. “I’m not very good at shuffling cards.”

“All right.” Innes takes the deck and shuffles them quickly, with practiced ease. Ephraim whistles.

“You’ve got nimble fingers.”

“I’m surrounded by people who enjoy wheedling favors out of me through competition.” Innes passes each card out in a clockwise manner. “I’ve learned a thing or two about avoiding being cheated out of my time.”

“Sounds horrible.”

“It is. Once I had to help Gerik clean out his garage. It took five days. We found a cat nursing her litter of kittens beneath the hood of an old car of his.”

“What did he do with them?” Myrrh asks.

“Cared for them until they were old enough to be spayed or neutered and gave them to his grandmother. They take care of any rodents that infiltrate her barn and serve as her lap cats the rest of the day.”

“Aw, happy ending.” Myrrh smiles. “That’s great for them.”

“Bet it was your idea to do that.” Ephraim says, still lying on his side. “Told him it only made sense if his grandma needed the help, right?”

“I’m not answering that _._ ”

“Only ‘cause I hit the nail on the head.”

The first few rounds are all right. Myrrh wins the majority of them and is humble about it. Ephraim drifts between being awake and asleep the entire time, carelessly throwing his cards into the discard pile.

It’s only when Innes wins his first round that he sits up straight.

“Nice job, Mr. Innes.”

“Thank you.” He replies, collecting the cards so he can shuffle them again.

Ephraim frowns, wrapping a throw blanket around his shoulders.

“Next round is mine.”

“I’m sure probability will skew in your favor.” Innes remarks dryly, handing everything out again.

“I wasn’t serious before. Now I am.”

“Whether or not you are serious is irrelevant—“

“—You trying to say you’re scared—“

“—I’m trying to say you cannot control—“

“—scared to lose, you _chicken_ —“

“— _Start us off, then.”_

_“I sure will.”_

_“Do it.”_

_“I’m getting to it.”_

Ephraim wins the next round. Innes seethes and demands a rematch. He wins the following one. Ephraim requests a chance to shuffle the cards next. They insult each other when his daughter wins the next couple. Myrrh smiles pleasantly the entire time, happy to play one of her favorite games with both of them.

They’re all so absorbed in the game, they nearly miss the chime of the doorbell.

“Go get that, Innes.” Ephraim says without looking up from his hand of cards. “I’m sick.”

“Are you going to keep using that as an excuse not to do anything?”

“Yeah.”

“I can get it!” Myrrh offers. Innes waves her off.

“I have it. Keep an eye on your father. I don’t want to come back to any irregularities.”

“Trying to say I’m a cheater?”

“Ephraim, I can see you sticking a wild card up your sleeve.”

“No, I’m not.” Ephraim denies, clearly shoving both a wild card _and_ a draw four into his sweater. “You don’t see anything.”

Innes rolls his eyes, leaving to check on the door. It takes him a second to get the gist of the intercom system, but once he does he presses the speaker button. “Yes? Who is it?”

“What do you mean who is it? You scared me half to death with that voicemail!”

“Who did?”

“Stop fooling around, Ephraim. Let me up.”

“May I have a name?”

“…”

“…”

“…Um, this isn’t Ephraim, is it?”

“Not at all.”

“Um, yeah, sorry about that. It’s—Tell him it’s Lyon.”

“It’s Lyon.” Innes yells back into the living room. Ephraim gives him the affirmative, prompting Innes to buzz the guest up. Part of him wonders why their voice sounded familiar, as he didn’t recognize the person he saw through the video feed. Curious.

“Hello.” The man greets with a shy smile once he makes it up. He looks to be around the same age, dressed in a physician’s coat. “Nice to meet you. I’m Lyon.”

“I’m aware.” Innes’s lips quirk at the flustered sputtering he receives in turn, stepping tothe side to allow him entrance. “I’m Innes.”

“It’s a pleasure.” Lyon slips off his shoes. “I, um, I think Ephraim’s mentioned you before? I think? Unless he hasn’t and I’m just making things up because I’m nervous.”

“I do not see why you would be.”

“That’s my default. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Now Innes was really stumped. _Where had he heard this voice?_ Did they coincidentally pass by one another at one point? Was he a customer at Rausten? Or maybe Renais?

“Hello Lyon!” Myrrh says cheerfully when they both make it back. “It’s very nice to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you too.” Lyon waves, turning his attention to Ephraim. His expression immediately shifts to disdain, much to Innes’s amusement. “You’re alive, I see.”

“It’s a miracle.”

“Can you, y’know, _not_ send me a voicemail about how you’re dying and how those will be your last words and follow it up with a text message three minutes later that says ‘ _lmao jk it’s just a cold and I feel horrible_ ’? Because I would really appreciate _not_ having ten years of my life scared off of me ever again.”

“I thought you knew me well enough at this point to tell the difference between real serious and fake serious.”

“I hate you so much sometimes.”

“Not cool, Dad.” Myrrh pats Lyon’s arm comfortingly. “Not cool at all.”

“For shame.” Innes tuts. “Would you like a refreshment?”

“Hm?…Oh, no, I’m okay. Thank you, though.” Lyon responds appreciatively, taking in their current arrangement. “Was I interrupting something?”

“No.” At this point, Ephraim practically has the entire deck up his sleeves, only a few cards left on the table. “Come at me, Innes.”

“Yeah, _no_. This game is over. Myrrh is the overall winner.”

“I am?”

“By default, because your father is a cheating scoundrel.”

“ _What did you call me_?” Ephraim gets up, cards falling down through his shirt and onto the floor. “…yeah, I think you’re right. Gimme my check up, Lyon.”

“You’re a doctor?” Innes suspected as much. “Is there not a code of conduct associated with this sort of behavior?”

“I’m not really giving him a check up.” Lyon sighs. “He just likes to get my opinion before he goes to his actual doctor.”

“The perks of having a doctor friend.” Ephraim tells Innes. “He’s got a clinic if you ever need to go.”

“We accept most insurance providers and have information about health affordability programs.” Lyon says. “We also have a variety of different stickers. If that’s something you’re interested in.”

“Let me give my agency a call.” Innes deadpans. “I’ll keep it in mind should the need arise.”

Lyon begrudgingly gives Ephraim a faux medical exam. It really only consists of him asking questions and scolding the other man about his vague answers. Innes spends the time fixing the furniture back into its place while Myrrh watches him over the back of the couch.

“Okay, my diagnosis? _Surprise._ You’ve got a cold. Take in plenty of fluids and rest. Gargle salt water for the throat or have some green tea with honey. You’re fine otherwise.”

“Thanks, Lyon. Sorry about scaring you.” Ephraim apologizes sheepishly. “I’m pretty sure I was half asleep and not thinking straight because of the fever.”

“I figured.” Lyon laughs. “It’s fine. I mean, it looks like you didn’t really need me to come over anyway.” He gestures towards Innes, who’s engaged in conversation with Myrrh over the context of a cartoon she’s explaining to him. “You already sound a lot better than you did this morning.”

“Kinda unexpected but…” Ephraim shrugs. “Nice. I guess. He fed me and all.”

“Soothed your weary soul.”

“Why ya gotta phrase it like that?”

“He’s the one you mention sometimes, right?” Lyon inquires, lowering his voice. “He seems right up your alley. No nonsense. Exactly what you need.”

“You just met him.”

“You’ve told me more than enough before this.”

“I told you he’s my friend.”

“I’m sure he is.”

“What are you trying to say to me?”

“Nothing you don’t already know.” Lyon pats him on the shoulder. “Feel better. Call me if anything comes up.”

“You’re leaving already? You just got here.”

“I’m meeting Eirika for dinner.”

“Choosing my sister over me? I thought we were bros.”

“Of course we are. Thing is, she’s kinda my wife.”

“So?”

Lyon flicks his forehead.

“Rest. And look on the bright side, you’ve got decent company here already.” Innes is now yelling at the television, Myrrh nodding furiously in agreement with him.

“ _Fine._ ” Ephraim runs a hand through his hair. “Have fun eating food with my sister.”

“I will.” Lyon walks towards the other two. “It was nice meeting you, Innes. It’s a shame I couldn’t stay very long to speak with you more.”

“Likewise.” They shake hands. Lyon turns to leave, but something hanging from his bag catches Innes’s eye.

“Is that from Sacred Summoner?” He asks, pointing to the charm with the game’s logo.

“Huh?” Lyon looks down. “Ah, yeah. It is.” He scratches his cheek. “I play whenever I have free time. Which sadly means not very much lately. Do you…play, too?”

“As with you, not recently. I’m sure I have one particular party member who is absolutely livid about that.”

“Haha, me too.” Lyon smiles. “Although, he’s been busy with his schooling as well, which means none of us have spoken recently. It’s kinda sad.”

“Hm, it’s the same with myself.” What a strange coincidence. Innes decides to ask a bit more, wanting to confirm a hunch. “What do you usually play as?”

“A summoner. I really like being able to summon copies. It’s fun to exploit. How about you?”

“I’m a healer.”

Ephraim snorts.

“That’s really funny.”

“I wasn’t aware you were part of this conversation.” Innes says cooly, his attention returning to Lyon. “And my other party member is a sage.”

“A sage? Mine…Mine is…too?” It seems as though Lyon finally reaches the same conclusion he does. “You’re a healer?”

“Yes.”

“And…did you happen to get that rare skin as a drop a while back?”

“The pink one?”

“With the ribbons?” Lyon stands up straighter. “And we laughed because we saw a video of a guy grinding for over seventy hours and you got it on your first try?”

“… _Fomortiis_?"

“ _Nidhogg_?”

“Why are you two such dweebs?”

“Shut up, Ephraim.” The both say at once.

“I knew I recognized your voice.”

“I should have recognized yours!” Lyon shakes his hand enthusiastically. “Wow. We had an IRL meeting without even trying.”

“Life’s coincidences are truly something else.”

“And all it took was Ephraim being a big baby about a runny nose.”

“ _Hey!_ ”

Lyon leaves after exchanging numbers with Innes, plans to someday be introduced to Ewan on the far horizon. Innes had no doubt the younger man would be livid to find out he was beaten to the punch.

“That’s amazing.” Myrrh watches him take a seat next to her. “You knew each other and you didn’t even know it.”

“It’s a very small world.”

“You’re welcome.” Ephraim’s voice is muffled into a pillow. “I’m glad I could introduce you two.”

“You didn’t.”

“Semantics.”

“Do you even know what that word means?”

“No. I’m not a nerd, after all.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the evening is spent watching movies.

Innes is shocked by the sheer extensiveness of Ephraim and Myrrh’s DVD collection. He browses the cabinet the television is resting on, genres of all types organized into neat sections. There are quite a few he doesn’t recognize, either foreign or esoteric enough to be nowhere near his radar. Granted, Innes was no movie savant, as his interests tended to gravitate towards character dramas more than anything else.

“Why do you have this many DVDs?” He asks, reading the summary of one disc. “I don't even recall the last time I purchased one.” A tiny lie. Innes clearly remembers nabbing a limited edition tin of the show he’d mentioned to Ephraim on the anniversary of its release, but that was irrelevant.

“I like supporting the stuff I like.”

“You can stream many of these.”

“I don’t have any of that steaming stuff.” Ephraim surprises him with the admission. “If I watch something and enjoy it, I’ll buy the DVD. I know I can watch everything online, but I like having a physical copy.”

“I suppose that makes sense. It’s rather difficult to picture you sitting still long enough to watch a full series.”

“Absolutely can’t. Movies are fine, but put a twenty four episode show on and you’ve lost me.” Ephraim looks at Myrrh. “Sitting inside all day isn’t our style, right?”

“Nope. But I think it’s nice sometimes.” She hugs a pillow to her chest. “Even if we didn’t get to go roller skating today.”

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay.”

Innes decides on the most child friendly film he can find. It’s an animated picture, much to Myrrh’s clear delight. Ephraim looks all right with the choice, which makes sense, given he enjoyed it enough to purchase his own copy.

Actually watching the film is a peaceful experience. Neither Ephraim nor Myrrh speak a single word, completely engrossed in what’s unfolding on screen. Innes attempts to keep his attention on what’s happening, but finds himself distracted by all of the memetic expressions the father-daughter pair make the entire time.

He never really placed much attention on the fact that Ephraim was Myrrh’s parent, but witnessing the similarities between the two, it was almost uncanny. The way they frowned, the scrunch of their noses when confused, the snickering at humorous parts. Even their posture was similar, a strange sort of regality to the way they carried themselves.

It was interesting, to say the least.

“This is my favorite part.” Myrrh whispers to him at the mid point. “It’s the best scene in the movie.”

“Is it?” Having not been paying attention, Innes struggles to understand what is happening.

“Uh-huh. They’re gonna save the day.”

“No spoilers, Myrrh.” Ephraim scolds jokingly. “Nessy is gonna freak out.”

“I can’t believe it. I had no idea the main protagonists would find a way out of their conundrum.” Innes replies flatly. “I suppose I’ll enjoy the journey, rather than the destination.”

“That’s a good way to look at it. Y’know, since everyone dies at the end.”

“ _What?_ ”

“No, they don’t!” Myrrh exclaims, puffing out her cheeks. “Don’t lie, Dad!”

“ _Kiddo!_ ” Ephraim gasps. “You spoiled it again!”

“ _You meany_!”

“Meany? I’m not the one spoiling everything.”

“ _Dad!_ "

Spoiled or not, Innes decides to actually pay attention to the final hour and a half of movie left. He has no idea what some of the events they’re referencing by the end are, but he assumes they were probably incredibly interesting.

It’s when the credits begin to roll that Innes realizes the lateness of the day. He noted the extra weight on his arm earlier, but paid it little mind, figuring it was only Myrrh attempting to find a more comfortable position. Perhaps it was too comfortable, if the sound of her even breathing was anything to go by.

“Didn’t even notice, did ya?”

“Not at all.” Innes replies quietly, unsure whether to wake or leave her in peace. “She must be tired.”

“She woke up pretty early. Heard me coughing up a storm.”

“Did she really cry?”

“A little. She’s my baby, after all.” Ephraim rises from his seat. Innes scoots over, watching him carefully gather Myrrh into his arms. She stirs slightly, burying her face into the crook of his neck.

“Not too sick for this?”

“ _Never_.” Ephraim responds firmly. “I’ll be back.” He walks off, presumably to settle Myrrh in for the night. While he’s gone, Innes puts everything away, folding the blankets and tidying up the living room once again.

This day really hadn’t unraveled in the way he intended. Not at all.

Checking in on Ephraim, confirming his condition and leaving was all he wanted to do that morning. Nowhere in those plans was he expecting to stick around, clean his house, make lunch, play cards, or watch a movie.

Weren’t they in the middle of a fight? How easily Innes had fallen back into step with him as if nothing had happened, and all because of a _silly cold_. How weak was his resolve if that was all it took?

Sighing at his own actions, Innes takes a step towards the floor to ceiling window, intending on closing the shades for the night. But much like previous events, he’s distracted, the outside view too wonderful to pass up.

It was nice during the day, but Innes could definitely say he preferred it at night.

“See something interesting?”

“My own reflection.”

“Narcisist.”

“I’ve been called worse.” Innes doesn’t look at Ephraim as he moves to stand beside him. “She said it looked better at night. I’m inclined to agree.”

“It’s what sold me on the place. A massive pain to clean, but worth it. I think.”

“What else does one need in a home?”

“A baby grand piano.”

“That would really pull the entire pretentiously wealthy look together.”

“Decided against it since I can’t play in the first place.” Ephraim lets out a soft laugh. “I always skipped lessons. Eirika went even though she hated piano. Didn’t want to disappoint our parents, I guess. Lyon was the only one who ever got any good at it.”

“How long have you known each other?”

“Since we were kids. His dad and mine go way back. Typical childhood friends.”

“How quaint.”

“You play any instruments?”

“None at all. It never interested me. Tana played the flute throughout primary and secondary school, though. Our family used to attend all of her concerts.”

“And here I was expecting you to be a pro-violinist.” Ephraim jokes. “Guess we’re both destined to cook with chopsticks rather than play it.”

“Comedic gold.”

“Thanks. I’ll be here all night.”

“Please stop.”

They lapse into a silence.

There’s no doubt they’ve both been purposely skirting around addressing their squabble. Waiting for the appropriate moment to bring it up and attempting to draw the least amount of attention to it while in Myrrh’s presence. Funnily enough, despite all of the extra time to think of what to say and how to phrase it, Innes still draws a blank when given the perfect opportunity to discuss everything openly.

All he had to do was own up to his words. To say he was out of line. That he was angry and out of anger, aimed to purposefully hurt.

All he had to do was apologize.

He opens his mouth, ready to say _something,_ when Ephraim beats him to it. Because Ephraim was great at that.

“Uh…” The other man starts off eloquently. “About the other day. When we, ah, when we spoke on the phone and kinda flipped out on each other—It’s been bothering me this whole time and I think I should explain myself.” Ephraim isn’t looking at him, fixated on the twinkling lights outside. “I didn’t mean to say you didn’t work hard or that you weren’t needed or anything like that. I mean, I _did_ say it but that wasn’t—I was—“ He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated by the way it was all coming out. “Look, I was teasing you at first, but it was in bad taste. I know how seriously you take your job and I shouldn’t have even tired to insinuate anything. Joke or not. You know as well as I do that I don’t think sometimes and just say things without really paying attention to how it sounds and— _I was wrong_ , all right? Honestly, what you deal with on a daily basis is something I don’t want to experience ever again. I think I’ll have nightmares about instantaneous combustion and off-key singing for weeks. Maybe even months.”

“…You’ll be lucky if it’s years.”

“Don’t mess with me like that.”

Innes folds his arms against his chest, gathering the nerve to come up with a decent response.

“Perhaps I may have…been slightly out of line with my own accusations. You provoked me, after all.”

“I guess I did…”

Amazing. Even Innes was surprised at his own ability to come across as patronizing and defensive when he was supposed to be apologizing. Simply astonishing. His family would be ashamed.

“No, that’s…well, slightly accurate but—“ He sighs. Maybe he should have paid attention to Tana whenever she gave those ‘ _grow to have delicacy_ ’ speeches. “…What I mean to say is we are equally at fault. I am willing to admit that.”

“But I—“

“— _We are not going to bicker about who said what first._ It was a two-sided argument and as such, we both carry the blame. Save me the embarrassment and agree.”

“…All right.” Ephraim nods, meeting him halfway. “It’s both our faults.”

“Good—“

“— _But I shouldn’t have started it_.”

“ _Must you complicate everything._ ”

“I’m telling the truth.”

“You’re attempting to be the bigger person. I hate it.” Innes glares at the floor. “At least allow me my own piece before taking the high ground.”

“Fine. The floor is yours.”

“ _I don’t need you to give it to me.”_

“And you say _I_ complicate everything.” Ephraim mutters under his breath, more than a little irritated by Innes’s contrarian attitude. “Okay. _Whatever_. Do what you want.”

“ _I will_.” _And_ he’s doing it again. He needs to relax. Needs to stop being on the defensive. They’re both on equal footing. It’s time for Innes to act like it. “…What I said to you, _all of it_ , was to strike you where it would hurt most. It was petty and inappropriate. I—” Innes takes shaky breath. “—I apologize. I should not have resorted to using information you told me in confidence against you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Ephraim’s smile is weak, lacking any vivacity or warmth. Lacking any of the qualities that made Innes’s head spin when it was directed at him. It isn’t right. It’s not what it should be. “I’ve heard it all before. Don’t tell me you thought you actually managed to hurt my feelings?” Even his laugh is disturbingly empty, a sorry excuse of patching up whatever wrongs Innes had committed with his unthinking commentary. _It’s infuriating._ “You called me inadequate, right? Well, it can’t hurt if I know it’s the truth.”

Leave it to this man to try and turn his own insecurities into a twisted sort of joke. Innes feels his temperature rise, irritation bubbling up within him, the kind of rage he’s completely unfamiliar with overcome him. Ephraim’s shaky confidence was pathetic. His insistence on belittling himself even worse.

It was appalling. Distasteful. Shameful.

Innes couldn’t allow it.

“Don’t say that.” He grits out, fingers tightening their grip on his elbows.

“Why shouldn’t I? That’s what you really think isn’t it? That I’m—“

“ _It’s not true, Ephraim!_ ”

The words explode out of Innes, containable no longer. The power with which he yells resonates throughout his entire body. As if finally released from a dormant state. Awakened. A long-time coming.

Ephraim’s startled expression is quickly replaced with severity. He silently brings a finger to his lips, head jerking towards the general direction of Myrrh’s room. Part of Innes wants to get angry at the parental reaction, but his more rational side concedes to Ephraim’s concerns. Myrrh waking up to his yelling was the last thing he wanted.

“…It’s not true.” Innes repeats quietly. “I said it, didn’t I? That I intentionally wanted to hurt you because I was angry.”

“And I said it’s—“

“ _It’s not okay._ ” Innes finally manages to look at the other man, full turning to face him. Ephraim follows suit. “Stop saying that, because it isn’t right. You are more than good enough. You are talented. Incredibly so. _So much so_ it irks me to admit it. To admit that I—That I _don’t—_ “ _That I don’t think I’m as good as you,_ remains unsaid. Innes continues before Ephraim can offer any sort of counter argument. “—Anyway, don’t think that because you’ve heard it before, it’s all right to be told it again. What’s wrong is wrong, and calling you inadequate is as untrue as a fallacy can be. I _do not_ want to hear another word of you belittling yourself or taking stupid, erroneous statements as fact. It’s off-putting and disgraceful. Show some backbone. Don’t allow me to walk all over you. It’s embarrassing.”

The silence that follows is suffocating.

Innes does not break eye-contact, refusing to be the one who bends. Ephraim returns it with as much intensity as he does, searching almost desperately for an answer Innes isn’t sure he can provide.

Whatever he finds, it causes him to visibly relax, the tensity straining his nerves finally melting away.

“And here I thought you liked me docile.” Ephraim comments gently, a softness to his tone.

“That’s a revolting assumption.” Docile? How disturbing. His Ephraim was nothing but annoyingly cheeky and combative. Innes would have him no other way. “Don’t make me sick.”

“Can’t promise you anything. You’ve already been exposed to my cooties.”

“Funny. My immune system isn’t weak enough to fall victim to the germs of an inferior ruffian.”

“Oh, I think I’m more than capable of wearing you down.”

“Unlikely.”

“You think?”

“Would you like to take an ill-fated gamble?”

“I’m great at working the odds in my favor.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Why don’t you call it?”

At this point, they’re closer than Innes believes they’ve ever been, having closed the distance separating them both mid-banter without noticing. It’s an enlightening experience really, because it’s serving in helping Innes realize a few things he’s surprised he hadn’t before.

Like the, _at least_ , extra inch and a half of height Ephraim has on him. Or the width of his broad shoulders. The silky quality of his hair and the thickness of his eyelashes. The way his eyes seem to change shade depending on the angle of the light hitting them. A deep turquoise one moment and the next, an aqua so crystalline they resemble pools of water.

Innes notes the hues of blue and orange, yellow and red illuminating Ephraim’s face, the outside city lights putting on some sort of secret light show along the line of his jaw and the skin of his cheeks, flushed pink with the remains of a tumultuous fever. Innes wonders if they’re as warm as they look. Wonders if he were to place a fleeting touch along his face, could he feel the heat coursing though Ephraim’s veins? Would Ephraim feel the chill of his own touch? Lean into it as he had that morning, desperate for relief?

Would he return the gesture?

‘ _Why would I want him to?_ ’ Innes asks himself, sudden realization dawning on him. Everything rushes to mind all at once. Moments together. His own actions. His own concerns. His denial of the assumptions made by others. ‘ _Why would I—Why would that matter to me? Why would I want to do that? Why would I want Ephraim to reciprocate?’_

The answer is simple. Obvious. Only logical.

It lies in the tenacity that burns within Ephraim, his unwillingness to concede even the smallest of battles. Unflinching in the face of adversity. True to himself and no one else.

It’s in his smiles. His laughter. The crinkle of his face when he disagrees with Innes and wants to make a show out of it. In the soothing tone of his voice when he speaks, the boisterousness of his attitude when he’s found something special everyone else has overlooked.

In the tenderness of his love for his daughter. In his openness to share details about his family and his victories and successes. In his weakness and in his sadness.

Everything. All of it. The answer has always lead back to him.

Innes had simply never bothered to follow the trail.

Until _now_ that is.

“…I should go.” He’s proud of the way his voice doesn’t waver, giving away none of the tremors currently ravaging him from the inside. “It’s getting late.”

“Huh?” Ephraim glances at the clock hanging on the wall. “Wow. It’s _really_ late.”

“Yes.” Innes steps away in the most discreet manner he can, gathering his things. “Thank you for having me.”

“I should be thanking you for coming.” Ephraim’s grin is crooked. Innes cannot bear to look at it right now. “I would be on my deathbed if it wasn’t for you.”

“Stop exaggerating.”

“I’m serious. I thought I was having some weird fever dream when you came into my room.”

“Was it that surprising?” It certainly was for Innes. In retrospect, it was rather brash of him to step into Ephraim’s bedroom without a second thought. Encroaching his personal quarters without prior permission could be seen as an intimate gesture.

Innes stops that train of thought before it can derail into something he would rather not contemplate in front of the other man right now.

“You bet it was.” Ephraim answers, none the wiser to Innes’s internal struggle. “Couldn’t believe nurse Innes was being nice to me.”

“Gross. Don’t call me that.”

“You could have dressed up a little to nail the role.”

“You’re right. Next time I’ll bring my grim reaper costume. It would really get across the feeling of helplessness.”

“…I was thinking something along the lines of a cute nurse, but you do you I guess.”

Ephraim sees him off at the door.

“Sure you can get home all right? I can call a cab or something.”

“I’ll be fine.” What Innes needed was to get home, _away from Ephraim_ , so he could sleep on the revelations made today. Maybe even forget them altogether.

Ha. As if that would be possible.

“Whatever you say.” Ephraim looks down at the floor, in thought, before looking at him again. “…Are we good now?”

“As good as we can get.”

“I think that’s pretty good.”

“Your prerogative is presumptuous as always.”

“I like to think positive. And just so we’re clear, next time we fight, let’s not aim below the belt from the very first swing.”

“Agreed.” Innes steps away, tipping his head. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” Ephraim offers a wave. “Careful heading home.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“I know but…careful anyway.”

Innes snorts.

“Goodbye, Ephraim.”

“See ya.”

Innes leaves and doesn’t look back.

By the time he gets home, Frelia is sitting by the door, clearly miffed at being left to her own devices the entire day. Innes sets his bag on the couch, too tired to unpack it. His bed was calling for him. Who was he to ignore it?

He’s changed into his sleepwear, snuggled beside Frelia, ready to give into the world of dreams when his cellphone dings.

 

_give me a sign of life if you made it back okay_

 

The text shouldn’t make his chest constrict. It shouldn’t make him think fondly on its sender or even want to reply. Especially not this late.

 

>:(

go to sleep

 

Innes types his response quickly. He gets one back within seconds.

 

:)

sleep tight

 

“Idiot.” Innes mumbles, placing the device onto his nightstand. Frelia looks at him curiously. He pets her head gently. “But maybe that makes me the bigger fool.”

 

After all, Innes was the one who had gone and become enamored with him.

.

.

.

.

.

 

Extra:

“What are these?” Ephraim asks aloud, noticing the plastic container on his kitchen counter. Maybe Innes left it behind accidentally?

Curious, he opens it, pleasantly surprised by the contents.

“Pretzels?” He mutters to himself, confused. Not that he was complaining, but why were these here?

Taking another look at the container, he spots a post-it note attached to the bottom of the lid. He grabs it, reading the neat message scrawled onto it.

He can’t help it. He starts laughing.

“ _He’s so cute_.” Ephraim wheezes to himself, ignoring the pain in his chest in favor of savoring the moment. “ _What is he doing?"_

 

_._

 

_Here are some dumb pretzels for your dumb self._

_It’s not like these are for an apology or anything._

_I happened to make them by chance and was generous enough to bring you some. Be grateful._

_-Innes_

_P.S. Do not bring this up to me ever. I will not know what you are talking about._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nobody:  
> innes: aggressively barges into your home, nurses you back to health, cares for your child, cleans your house, and apologizes in the most passive-aggressive way possible  
> everyone+ephraim: yes please
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	16. Call Me Pudding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Innes and Ephraim go out together. It ends somewhere familiar.

“You have a green thumb for the ages.”

“I would not call this having a green thumb.”

“But you’re doing such a great job.”

“Are you only saying that to ensure I keep doing this for you?”

“Partially. It’s not as if I know the difference between good and bad gardening work.”

“I appreciate your honesty.” Innes sets the roots of one recently purchased plant into the soil of its new home, burying it carefully so as to not harm any stems or petals. He wasn’t aware of when he had become the designated gardener at his job, but here he was, providing maintenance for all of the flowers lining Rausten’s windows.

It wasn’t a terribly difficult exercise, considering he was well-versed in caring for blooms due to his father’s profession, but he _did_ consider it a bit tedious. Normally, he would complain about L’Arachel’s clear bias in assigning him a task just because she knew he would get it done quicker, but this is one particular piece of labor he would gladly insist on taking over himself. The thought of leaving this to one of his coworkers was _terrifying_. Gerik was the exception, but the man had horrible allergies and it wouldn’t do to expose him to pollen on the job.

“It doesn’t take an expert to see your skill.” L’Arachel responds. “You’re very talented.”

“It’s a matter of experience.”

“Impressive, given how little you’ve done this as of late.” She passes him a plant trowel when he gestures for it.

“Like riding a bike.”

“If only you knew how.”

“Can you stop saying that?” Innes shovels dirt around the next flower gently. “You saw me come to work today on one.”

“Did I?”

“Who is the one with botanical knowledge?”

“…I absolutely _did_ , you very capable bike rider, _you._ ”

“I thought so.” Innes rises from his kneeling position, dusting off his gloves. “Any criticisms before I move on to the other side?”

“Only for my color choices. I’ll try to get more vibrant colors when I have the chance.” L’Arachel takes a quick picture for reference. “Maybe we can transplant these elsewhere once I do.”

“Should it come to that, I can certainly take them off your hands.”

“I could not do that in good conscious.” L’Arachel turns him down. “I know for a fact you cannot care for them adequately.”

“ _I_ wouldn’t be caring for them.” Innes clarifies. With the amount of sunlight his home received, or rather, lack thereof, they would be dead within seconds. “My father is looking for different flowers to introduce to Tiki. She’s exploring the differences in care they need.”

“Willingly?”

“Yes.”

“Hm…” L’Arachel hums. “She’s taking after him a great deal. Do you believe she’ll follow in his footsteps? Take over the shop?”

“If it’s of her own volition, I do not see why not.” Innes moves over to work on the other side. “It isn't unlikely. My mother tells me they have to drag her away from the backyard, lest she sleep outside in the garden. Something about not wanting her flowers to be lonely.”

“That’s adorable. The sibling apple strayed far from the tree, did it not?”

“I’ll have you know I’m as adorable as they come.”

“I second that.” The voice of an interloper has Innes tensing, his grip on the next plant tightening. He quickly loosens it when the soil crumbles to the floor, placing it into its plot.

“Why, hello Mr. Ephraim.” L’Arachel greets cheerfully. “Wonderful morning, isn’t it?”

“Sure is. Reminds you that summer is just around the corner.” Ephraim responds with the same amount of enthusiasm. “Can’t wait for the beaches to open up. Nothing like sun and surf, am I right?

“I agree. There’s a certain aspect about the salinity of sea water I find appealing. I’ve attempted to replicate it into various different dishes, but my uncreative and close-minded employees refuse to give me positive reception.”

‘ _Because nobody wants to eat something that tastes like sea water_ ’ Innes thinks to himself. L’Arachel was incredibly well-versed in pulling together the oddest of flavors and making them work, but had yet to crack the code on making salt water palatable.

“Keep at it. I’m sure you’ll get it eventually.”

“Thank you. At least _someone_ is supportive.” She sends Innes a nasty look. He ignores it. "There really is much to love about the nostalgia of summer days. Reminds me of simpler times.” L’Arachel holds a hand to her chest. “Times when I had not fully recognized my destiny. Can you believe I considered astrophysics before this?”

“You did?”

“Yes. An interesting road to have chosen, but I’m quite content where I am now.” She sighs dreamily. “Oh well. Perhaps in a different universe.”

“Who said you can’t do both now?”

“I like the way you think.” She laughs merrily. “But let’s leave that discussion for another day. What brings you over? A request for another internship?”

“ _No_.” Ephraim quickly clarifies. “Not that it wouldn’t be fun or anything but…no, that’s not it.”

“A pity. You would make a nice addition to our crew.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine where I am.” Ephraim’s focus shifts to Innes, currently attempting to silently slink away without a word. “I’m actually here for Innes.”

_Curses._

“Finished are you?” L’Arachel regards his work with satisfaction. “That should be all for now. I’ll put these tools away.”

“I can—“

“No, no.” L’Arachel blocks off his only means of escape out of a conversation with Ephraim, gathering everything herself. “I can handle this. Take your time.” Why was she choosing _now_ of all times to be considerate? Not that she had any idea of what Innes was currently attempting to come to terms with, but honestly, he would _very much_ appreciate her bossing him around right about now. “Good day, Mr. Renais.” She leaves with a skip to her step.

“Gardening?” Ephraim asks when they’re alone. He steps closer to take in Innes’s handiwork, their arms brushing. “Looks like fun.”

“Depends on what your idea of ‘fun’ is.” Innes could do this. He could act natural. He could _not_ give away any of his bothersome feelings of affection for the other man. This could work. All he had to do was be his usual self. Needs to go back to _not_ being hyperaware of their proximity and Ephraim’s casual and friendly gestures. “I am rather indifferent towards this.”

“Better than hating it, I guess.” Ephraim lightly touches the petal of a yellow flower. “I like the colors. Very pastely.”

“Admire them while they last. They may be switched out soon.”

“I thought you were gonna say something poetic about how spring is fleeting.”

“Flowers gone. One day. Ephraim please. Get out of the way.” Innes swerves around him, walking towards the doors. “If you don’t need anything, I’ll be going.”

“I do actually.”

Without warning, Ephraim tosses his phone towards him, Innes barely catching it in time.

“ _Don’t do that_.” He cradles it against his chest. “What if I hadn’t caught it?”

“I knew you would.” Is Ephraim’s flippant response. “Take a look and tell me if you’re interested.”

“…A special showing?” Innes reads aloud, eyebrows raising at the details of the event. “This is…”

“The movie for that series you like, right? The one you said didn’t make any sense?”

“Yes but this is—“

“Sold out?” Ephraim smirks. “You _did_ know about it then? Even if it’s the worst show ever?”

“ _I never said that_.” Innes throws the device back. The series was poorly put together and left a lot to be desired in terms of storyline, but it certainly wasn’t the worst there was to offer. “What about it?”

“Wanna go?”

“As I said, it’s sold out. How do you expect to…” Innes trails off when Ephraim shows him the digital receipt for two tickets. “…to go. What? How did you…?”

“I know a guy.”

“This wasn’t an illegal transaction, was it?”

“No, _Nessy_ , it wasn’t.” Ephraim laughs. “I was curious after you told me you watched it as a kid. Found out about this by chance. Thought you might want to tag along.” He shrugs. “If you don’t that’s fine. I’m sure I can find someone else to give these to.”

“You could go by yourself.”

“Wouldn’t make sense. You’re the one who told me about it in the first place.” The curve of Ephraim’s lips reminds Innes of every reason he avoided contact with him the past week after his visit in the first place. The danger it posed to his rationality was too great, Innes slowly beginning to realize he wasn’t as resistant to Ephraim’s seemingly unintentionally charming mannerisms as he thought. “It’s important to you, isn’t it? That’s why I want to watch it together.”

“I-It’s not as if it’s _that_ important to me.” Innes stammers, furious with himself for the sudden burning he feels at the tips of his ears. “It’s not even a good movie.”

“Doesn’t make it any less special. You’re allowed to like things you think are objectively bad.” Ephraim glances at the screen of his phone. “If you don’t want to, it’s all right. I’ll figure out what to do with these.”

Innes considers it.

On one hand, going would mean being _alone_ _with Ephraim_.

On the other, he would be missing out on an opportunity to watch one of his favorite movies and simultaneously _spend time with Ephraim_ , which was apparently something he hadn’t realized he enjoyed doing to the extent he now knew he did.

How confusing.

Maybe he was overcomplicating it?

…Yes, maybe _that_ was the issue.

If he enjoyed spending time with Ephraim, why not do so if given the opportunity? Why was there a need to avoid it, if the thought of being together brought him a strange sort of joy? Of _happiness_ , as embarrassing as that was to admit to himself. It’s not as if Ephraim knew how he felt, which meant things could proceed as they did before his sudden epiphany. Innes didn’t have to say anything, and Ephraim would be comfortable with their status quo.

It all made sense now.

“Yes.”

“I thought so. I’ll just—“ Ephraim’s sullen expression perks up as he processes Innes’s response. “ _Yes?_ ”

“I will go. _We_ will go.” Relief spreads through Innes instantly. Things didn’t need to change. He could still interact with Ephraim like a normal human being. They could still do things without his new inclination for romantic affection getting in the way.

And all he had to do was repress any feelings related to his infatuation.

He regains confidence, standing taller. Steadier on his feet.

Even if there was now a distinct feeling of hollowness where his chest should be.

“Great! I’ll text you the time and date and we can meet.” Ephraim’s radiant disposition is suddenly more painful to look at than it was moments ago. “Guess I’ll leave you to the old grind. See ya.” He makes to leave, pausing by the flowers Innes recently finished arranging. He searches among them all, gaze focusing in on one particularly eye-catching floret. Reaching over, Ephraim plucks the prettiest viridescent daylily, one Innes had carefully made sure stood out amongst the entire group to catch the attention of anyone who happened by Rausten.

“Why would you do that?” Innes demands with irritation, moving to slap the other’s hand away. All that work for nothing! “You can’t just—!”

“ _There_.”

Ephraim brushes a few stray locks of hair behind Innes’s ear, burrowing the pedicel of the flower within the golden strands.

“It looks better here.” He winks roguishly, saluting, before turning and walking back across the plaza towards Renais.

All without skipping a beat.

Innes's face slowly reddens from indignation, his blood practically boiling.

He hated him. Oh, _gods_ , Innes _hated_ him.

 _Hated_ how he couldn’t bring himself to honestly believe that.

It looked like repressing anything was going to be more difficult than he previously thought.

 

* * *

 

“You’re coming this evening, then?"

“You have my word.”

“No need to make promises,” Hayden laughs pleasantly. “I know how busy you are. We all understand if you can’t make it occasionally.”

“I wouldn’t say I would if I truly couldn’t.” Innes considers two ties before folding them back up again. Too formal. Why did he need to dress up for Ephraim? Formal- _casual_ it was. “I’m looking forward to it. Mother said something about toffee pudding?”

“She’s been mentally preparing for it all day.” There’s the distinct sound of very loud deep-breathing in the background. His father sighs. “I told her it was just a dessert. She said never to disrespect her like that ever again.”

“Does dinner not deserve meditation as well?”

“You know how she loves her toffee pudding. Everything else comes second.”

“There’s a reason it’s the best.”

“Does it have to be such a silly one—“ Hayden’s voice becomes distant. “ _No_ honey, I’m not calling _you_ silly.” Innes’s mother is probably demanding an explanation. “I was talking about myself. _I’m_ silly for doubting your technique…Yes, I love you, too…Your mother says hi.”

“Hello.”

“She also says have fun at the movies.”

“Thank you.”

“We’ll be seeing you later, then. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”

“Like pay full price for a movie ticket?”

“Are you going to do that?”

“They’ve been provided by the other party.”

“Smart boy. Make sure to thank them.”

“I will. Until later.” Innes hangs up. Feeling someone’s eyes burning into his back, he turns. “…What?”

Frelia looks on, unimpressed by his current state of dress.

“I was in the middle of deciding which pants to wear when he called.” Leave it to his cat to make him feel ashamed of being pants-less in his own house. Not that Innes enjoyed engaging in such an uncouth practice, but it wasn’t his fault! “If you’re going to stand there judging me, you may as well come help me pick.”

Frelia hops onto the bed, casting a disinterested once over at the selection he has displayed atop the covers. She lies down by a pair of dark navy blue trousers.

“That’s what I was thinking.” He offers her a scratch under the chin. Frelia closes her eyes contentedly. “It’s not as if I’m behaving any differently. I always dress well, regardless of who I’m seeing. Good presentation is everything when it comes to keeping good relations. This cologne is new, but that doesn’t mean I’m trying to induce a specific reaction from it. I like these shoes because they’re my favorite pair, not because I think they’re more flattering or anything. And I enjoy styling my hair. It’s grown back quite a bit, something I’m happy with and—“ Once he realizes he’s rambling nonsense to Frelia, who could not look any less bored if she tried, he lets out a frustrated groan.

 _What was he doing?_ Innes didn’t need to justify wanting to look good! Whatever Ephraim thought was irrelevant! He could keep his unwanted opinions to himself.

He finishes getting dressed, giving his hair one final check before grabbing his keys.

“I’m leaving. Watch over things while I’m out.”

Frelia blinks slowly, turning over to lie on her back.

Innes heads out.

He didn’t need anyone to tell him he looked good.

Because _he already knew._

 

* * *

 

 

 

_Leave it to Ephraim to keep him waiting._

Innes makes it to the theatre on exactly their decided upon arrival time. Early enough to get decent seats, but late enough not to have to sit through too many advertisements at the beginning. It’s a little irritating, but perhaps he should have anticipated this. Ephraim was never on time for most things, which was now even more difficult to understand when taking into account Innes’s newfound knowledge of his tidiness at home. If he was insistent on everything being well-organized, time would presumably be included within that realm of management.

Clearly, Ephraim enjoyed thoroughly crushing and crashing through every conceivable wall of assumptions anyone could make about him. Innes didn’t mind, but it made it all the more difficult to pin down and truly understand his boon companion.

Infuriatingly complex was a good turn of phrase to describe Ephraim’s inherent eclecticism.

“Excuse me?”

Innes starts at being suddenly addressed, turning to face two young women. They look at each other, giggling nervously.

“May I help you?” He asks, frowning. If they were planning on selling him something, he wanted no part of it, no matter how innocent they played it. “I’m not interested in purchasing a vacuum or facial creams or whatever you may think you can convince me into thinking I need.”

“What?” One of them laughs out of actual amusement. “No, it’s nothing like that. It’s, um…” They giggle again, looking Innes up and down.

“Yes…?”

“It’s—Are you cosplaying? For the movie? Because you look great!” The woman does a little excited hop. “You’re going for a modern day, Prince of Machinations look aren’t you?”

“We were going to dress up too but kinda ran out of time.” The other woman adds. “Can we get a picture?”

“What?” It takes Innes a few moments to understand how exactly they’re making such an error, but once he does, he has to desperately resist the urge to face palm himself hard enough to send him straight back home.

_It was the accursed hair._

Thank goodness Ephraim hadn’t arrived yet. There was no chance he would ever allow Innes to live this down.

“It’s coincidental.” He explains. “My apologies but I am not attempting to portray anyone.” The Prince of Machinations was definitely the best character in the entire series and deserved that kind of flattery, but Innes wasn’t interested in taking it upon himself.

“Oh.” The women deflate. One of them puts away their phone. “That’s a shame. Sorry for bothering you.”

“No harm done.”

“Are you here to see the movie, though?”

“Coincidentally, yes I am.”

One of them offers him a secretive smile.

“I get it.” She steps a bit closer, whispering her words. “My first tattoo was of the emblem. Y’know, how it looks when they finally unite all the stones? Kinda embarrassing now, but I don’t regret it. It’s how we met.” She points to the other woman. “You’re secret’s safe with us fellow fans.”

“That brings me great comfort.” Is Innes’s wry reply. She laughs.

“Enjoy the movie!” They both bid him farewell, excitedly chattering all the way inside.

He considers cutting his hair willingly for a moment.

_Nah._

“Yo! Innes!”

Their departure paves way for Ephraim’s entrance on the scene, slightly out of breath and offering explanations.

“Sorry about that! Got caught up helping this guy start his car and then this lady needed help loading her groceries and then I saw this really cool—“ He stops short, staring at Innes. “Uh…yeah.”

“I suppose being a good samaritan is a good enough reason for being late.” He glances at his watch, really only on his wrist for aesthetic purposes. It was proving useful at that exact moment. Good thing he’d changed the batteries recently. “I’ll forgive you for it. You’re here now.” Innes turns to head inside. “Let’s get going. I am _not_ sitting anywhere with an inadequate view of the screen.”

“Sure…” Ephraim follows behind, still seeming to need to catch his breath, running a hand through his wind-blown hair.

“Something wrong?” Innes asks, not looking at him. He takes note of one poster, the lovable face of a popular video game mascot with a detective hat posed dramatically. Maybe he could take Tiki to see it one of these days. It seemed like something she would enjoy. They could invite Myrrh along as well, if she hadn’t seen it before that is.

“Nothing. Just, uh—“ Ephraim matches his pace. “You look nice. _Real nice_.”

“I know.” Innes glances at him. A far cry from his usual clothing, a stylish bomber jacket atop a crisp black button up to match his pants, no flannel in sight. A nice change of pace. Perhaps Ephraim _did_ know he was equally as attractive in clothing that did not have a plaid pattern. “You clean up well yourself. I’m glad you won’t be causing me any shame via association.”

“Gee. _Thanks,_ Innes.” Ephraim rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “I’ll try not to steal your spotlight.”

“That would be much appreciated.” They walk past the concession stand.

“Don’t want any popcorn?” Ephraim stops in place. “Or, like, candy or anything?”

“Not necessary. I’m eating afterwards.”

“I’m actually—Why don’t you go find the seats?” Ephraim suggests. “I want some popcorn and it’ll probably take a while. Save us some good ones.”

“Good idea.” Innes nods in agreement. “I hope you have good eye-sight, because I won’t be signaling you.”

“Don’t worry. Pretty sure I could recognize you anywhere. You're, uh..." Ephraim stumbles on his next words. "...stunning. I guess."

“I’ll take your word for it.”

It isn’t until Innes is seated, having found two spots with a perfect view located at a relatively secluded corner, that he realizes Ephraim had actually complimented his appearance.

‘I _do_ look nice, don’t I?’ He thinks smugly. ‘I suppose even Ephraim can recognize the obvious.’

Not that he cared. Still, it felt nice to have his effort acknowledged.

Innes makes good on his word, not bothering to try and grab the other’s attention when he spots him walking in. Ephraim finds him anyway, carrying a large pail of popcorn, a drink, and a box of candy. He tosses it over.

“Gotcha something.”

“I said it wasn’t necessary.”

“Maybe not.” Ephraim shrugs. “They’re sour kids. You like those, right?”

“Somewhat.”

“Cool. Enjoy.”

Innes grumbles a few complaints but opens the box regardless. Sour confectionaries happened to be his favorite. He’s thwarted from actually eating one when prodding at his cheek distracts him.

“What are you doing?”

“Are you sure you don’t want any?” Ephraim pokes the corner of his lip with a singular popcorn. “I have a bunch here. We can share.”

“I don’t.”

“But popcorn.”

“Keep them to yourself.”

“But. _Popcorn_.”

Innes sighs. Rather than respond, he opens his mouth and eats it.

“Thank you.”

“Want some more?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“One more.”

“Why Ephraim, I wasn’t aware you were this concerned over my eating habits.” Innes deadpans, peering at him. “If I want any, I’ll tell you.”

Ephraim slowly brings another one to his lips.

“One more?” He attempts, hopeful.

Innes humors him. The grin he receives in return may or may not be worth it.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Ephraim doesn’t want to say that the movie is bad. In fact, he doesn’t want to have _any_ negative opinions about it _at all_ because Innes is enjoying it, judging by his incredibly invested expression and the excited asides he occasionally whispers into Ephraim’s ear. Some snarky, others informative, including tidbits of trivia on who animated what and how certain scenes came to be.

It’s a little distracting. Not because Ephraim is particularly amazed by what’s happening, but because Innes happens to smell _really good_ and it’s kinda hard to focus on anything else when he leans in close to tell him another fact about what the director was doing before he was assigned to direct the film.

But Ephraim is an honest guy. He has opinions and his opinions on what he’s witnessing are leaning towards less than mediocre.

The voice-acting is hammy, the animation dips from passable to horrendously terrible at times, the plot about tearing space and time into pieces is barely understandable, and half of the time the audio quality is inexcusable, the constant cracking and popping grating on his nerves.

He considers leaving a few times, figuring waiting outside for Innes would be a better use of his time than stewing in his own annoyance for the full hour and forty-five minutes, but he’s never quite able to. Not when Innes is watching what’s happening with a genuine merriment, unconsciously taking handfuls of the popcorn he kept insisting he didn’t want, eyes practically sparkling, utterly enchanted by the events unfolding before him. It’s a side to him Ephraim couldn’t say he bore witness to too often, if at all. It was almost childish in a sense. Full of innocent interest. Not anything Innes would ever willingly allow himself to display.

So Ephraim stays.The movie may not be all that appealing, but the little performance Innes is putting on without realizing it is more than enough to keep him engaged.

Mercifully, it comes to an end eventually.

“ _Finally._ ” Ephraim mutters to himself, watching the credits role with satisfaction.

“It was as horrible as I remember it being.” Innes says as they both remain seated, waiting for other movie-goers to file out of the theatre first. Despite the negativity of his words, he doesn’t look displeased at all. In fact, he’s radiating satisfaction. “Now that I finally understood what they were talking about, I feel as though I have obtained closure. Choosing that physics class as an elective finally showed its usefulness.”

“And they say school doesn’t teach you anything worth remembering.” Ephraim stretches out his limbs, glad to finally be able to move around again. “My favorite part was how you said you didn’t want any popcorn but then ate all of it anyway.”

“What?” Innes looks down at his lap, having taken the entire bucket from Ephraim at one point, only kernels left at the very bottom. “I did? Oh my— _I apologize_ , I didn’t mean to—“

“You’re fine.” Ephraim takes great pleasure in Innes’s flustered reaction. “As long as you enjoyed it.” He finishes off the rest of his soda. “What about the candy?”

“I’m not a fan of having everything taste like rubber after burning through them.” Innes waves the box around. “I’ll save them for later, I guess. Or would you like some?”

“Don’t really like sour stuff—“ Ephraim blinks, caught off guard by a sour candy being pressed against his cheek. “…This some kinda revenge?”

“What are you saying?” Innes replies breezily. “You love sour candies, don’t you?”

“I guess I do.” In one swift strike, Ephraim bites down.

“ _What are you—!_ ” Innes pulls his hand back, scandalized. “You _bit_ me!”

“Sorry.” Ephraim grimaces, chewing the acidic treat. “It’s like you said. Can't get enough of them.”

 

By the time they exit the cinema, evening shades of pinks and purples are settling across the sky. Ephraim yawns, rubbing his eyes as they readjust to the outside light.

“Don’t do that.” Innes scolds him. “You’ll get bacteria in them.”

“Okay Nessy.” Ephraim smirks at his annoyed glare. “You said you were going to eat after this? Wanna go somewhere?”

“By that, I meant I have a prior engagement.” Innes says, checking the time on his cellphone. “I’m having dinner with my family.”

“Oh.” Ephraim nods, slightly disappointed. Looks like he was on his own for dinner. Myrrh wouldn’t be back from her trip to the museum with Eirika and Lyon for a while. “All right. I can give you a lift if you want?”

“I can—“ Innes stops short of what he’s going to say, as if he’s thinking particularly hard on something. “…If-If it’s not any trouble.”

“Really?” Ephraim is admittedly surprised by how easily his offer is accepted. Usually it took a bit of convincing for Innes to willingly accept any of his help. “Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He folds his arms against his chest. “Am I not allowed to accept your generosity?”

“You don’t do that usually.”

“You’re not the only one capable of unpredictability.” Innes regards him expectantly. “Lead the way.”

Ephraim never really thought of Innes as predictable, something he actually really liked about him.

Ah well. Let him believe what he wanted.

“Follow me.”

 

* * *

 

 

“This is it?”

“No, it’s the next one.”

Ephraim smoothly pulls up to Innes’s parent’s house. It’s not anything too special, small and barely enough room to accommodate them all, but it was home at one point and still is when he’s feeling particularly sentimental.

“Looks like this is where you get off.” Ephraim says, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. “Thanks for coming along with me.”

“Thank you for inviting me.” Innes’s huffs out a laugh. “Even if you didn’t enjoy any of it.”

“What? I totally—“

“No, you didn’t.” Innes stops him before he can come up with an elaborate excuse for why he looked as though he was in physical pain the entire time. He wasn’t expecting Ephraim to like it in the first place, seeing as he was well aware of its flaws, but his ability to power through anyway had still impressed Innes. “I appreciate your effort regardless. If it wasn’t for my nostalgic connection to it, I would have walked out and not looked back.”

“I was tempted.”

“I would not have blamed you.”

“That wouldn’t have been cool. As long as you’re enjoying it, I don’t mind sticking around and possibly risking damage to my ear drums— _Seriously_ , did that not bother you?”

“It did.” Innes admits. In fact, his ears were still ringing. “I managed to tune it out somehow.”

“At least you could.” Ephraim makes a discomforting noise. “You should probably get going. Don’t want to keep your folks waiting.”

“Yes, that would be prudent.” Innes unbuckles his seatbelt, about to open the door and head inside when he pauses. A sudden idea comes to mind, an inquiry related to it leaving his lips before he’s realized what he’s actually suggesting. “…Do you happen to be in any rush to get anywhere?”

“Nope. I’m heading home right after this.”

“I see.”

“Why do you ask?”

“Would you…” Innes hesitates for a moment. “I—Feel free to decline. You aren’t under any obligation to accept my proposal. At all. It won’t—“

“Don’t you have to tell me what it is before I can say no?” Ephraim’s mirthful laughter serves to relax him somewhat. “What is it?”

“Would you want to join us?”

“Join you? Oh. You mean for dinner?”

“Yes.”

“Would that be okay?” Ephraim looks unsure. “Shouldn’t you have called ahead of time?”

“Believe me, it wouldn’t be necessary.” Innes’s mother was many things. A slacker when it came to magically producing an extra plate for an unexpected guest, she was not. “Would it be all right with you?”

“If this is because you ate all my popcorn, it’s not—“

“ _Ephraim._ ” Innes turns to fully face him. “Would you like to have dinner with my family and I? Yes or no?” Here he was being kind and considerate and what did he get? Ephraim’s being _skeptical_ rather than just accepting like he usually would. What foolishness.

“Don’t make me sound like you.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“ _Complicated._ ”

“You dare insult me in front of my progenitors home?”

“Wasn’t an insult.” Ephraim parks the car, taking the key out of the ignition. “Sure. If it won’t get you grounded, I don’t see why not.”

They exit the car, Innes guiding them up the walkway. It’s practically spotless, leading him to believe his mother or father must have swept it clean while he was gone.

“I’m gonna go ahead and assume this was where you got your skills with plants.” Ephraim tells him, referring to the colorful array of flowers beds surrounding the entire house. Innes doesn’t recognize a few, meaning his father must have gotten ahold of types he didn’t have before. “Bet the bees call this paradise.”

“The backyard is even worse.” The porch steps creak as they both ascend them. “They’re practically at war with the butterflies during the spring and summer.”

“How do your parents manage that?”

“They don’t bother them.” Innes rings the doorbell. He still had keys, but it never felt quite right to barge in without a second thought. “It works out very well, believe it or not.”

“Tana and Tiki don't freak out?”

“Tana yes. She cannot stand them. Tiki, not at all. She loves insects.” A little too much in Innes’s opinion. He could barely stomach it when she insisted on reading books with close-up pictures of their faces. “She never kills them when they get into the house. She catches and releases them all by herself.”

“Bet you wish she was still with you, huh?”

“I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“Sure they don’t give you the creeps?”

“They _don’t._ “

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“Why wouldn't I be—?"

“Spider.”

“ _WHAT?”_

Immediately, Innes is pulling Ephraim forward, shoving him in front to use as a human shield. At the exact same moment, the door opens, revealing his mother’s smiling face.

“Hello! How may I—“ She abruptly stops speaking, the sight of her son cowering behind a stranger bringing her pause.

She stares.

“Good evening, m’am.” Ephraim greets politely. “Allow me to just—“ He reaches up, pinching the string of web the arachnid is suspended from, transferring it carefully to a nearby flower planter hanging from the roof of the porch. “There. Got it. He’s gone Nessy.”

“ _Don’t call me that in front of my mother_.” Innes hisses, dread creeping up within him at the way her expression is beginning to light up. “ _She’ll—_ “

“You’ve brought a _very good_ _friend_?” Naga squees, unlocking the screen door. “ _You brought a very good friend! Oh, I couldn’t be happier! Honey!”_ She yells back into the home. “Nessy brought _a very good friend over_! Can you believe that?”

“ _No way_.” Is the distinct, faint reply from his father. Innes begins to believe this was actually a very bad idea.

“ _Yes_ way!” Naga giggles, giddy with excitement. “What am I doing? Come in! Come in!” She steps to the side to allow them room to enter. “It’s such a pleasure to have you over! Nessy is so sweet, surprising his dear old mummy like this. What’s your name? Your favorite color? Do you and Nessy do all sorts of fun and wild young adult things together?”

“Mother _please_.” Innes begs, slipping his shoes off. Ephraim follows suit. “Some space?”

“Oops, sorry. _Okay_ , taking a step back.” Naga’s makes a stern face, moon walking backwards. Takes a deep breath. “Space. Right.” She holds it for all but a few seconds before breaking. “ _I can’t._ I can’t do this. I’m so _happy._ ” She pulls Innes forward into a bone-crushing hug. “Welcome home, _sugar plum_. It’s been so long since we last saw each other and you’re introducing friends, _actual friends,_ to us so forgive me. I cannot emotionally handle this right now.”

“I was here two days ago.” Innes sighs, returning her affection. “And you _have_. You’ve met others before.”

“That doesn’t count because they came to me. You didn’t bring them over and blatantly offer them as a gift to our home.”

“ _I was waiting for him to get the spider_.”

“ _Precisely_. He’s a treasure, defending your honor like that. I love him already.” She lets go, turning her attention to their guest. “I’m Naga, Innes’s mummy dearest. It’s a pleasure. And you are?”

“Ephraim.” The man has the gall to not look the slightest bit astonished by his mother’s behavior. In fact, he seems more amused than anything else. “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, m’am.”

“Naga is fine. Or mom. Everyone here calls me that.”

“ _Mother._ ” Innes says incredulously, thoroughly mortified.

“Except him.” Naga pouts. “Nessy’s too old to call me mummy or mom or mama. Says he’s a grown man. I think that’s a bunch of bologna. Anyway, forget his silliness, are you staying for dinner?”

“I’d like to. Your son said it’d be all right.”

“A wise decision on his part. We’re having pudding today!~” Naga sings. “We’re actually in the middle of setting the table so you came at a great time. Follow me.” She skips away, disappearing into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry about her.” Innes didn’t have a problem with his mother’s chipper attitude. Still, it could be a bit much for anyone who wasn’t accustomed to it. “She’s easily excitable.”

“I think it’s great.” Ephraim smiles. “Reminds me of Tiki.”

“She’s her spitting image.”

“I _am_ surprised, though.”

“About what?”

“She’s actually _nice_.”

Ephraim catches the hand meant to pinch his arm, laughing at Innes’s indignation.

“What did L’Arachel say about the apple falling far from the tree?”

“ _To shut your mouth_.”

“I guess you’re kinda nice. _Sometimes_.”

“I can kick you out of my house and tell them you suddenly had to leave.”

“Don’t think she would appreciate that. I think your mom likes me more than you. _And we’ve only just met_.”

“An unfortunate consequence of your existence.” Innes scoffs, stomping forward. “Come on. Before I throw your portion out for the raccoons to eat.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“ _Ephraim_.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.”

The sight that greets them is a familiar one for Innes. His father and Tana are setting the table while Tiki tugs at their mother’s apron, asking for a taste of whatever she’s working on. She’s the first to notice them.

“Nessy and…Rem-Rem?” Tiki gasps, rushing over. “Is Myrrh here, too? Where’s she hiding? Over here? Or there? Maybe here? Myrrh!” She yells down the hall. “Where are you?”

“Kid’s not with me. Sorry, shorty.” Ephraim informs her apologetically.

Tiki deflates.

“Aw well. You’re gonna eat with us today?”

“Yeah. Nessy gave me permission.”

“He did? How interesting.” She smiles mischievously at Innes. “ _Very_ interesting.”

“What’s interesting is how untied your shoelaces are.”

“What?” She looks down. “Wait. I’m not wearing shoes. You tricked me!”

“Did I?”

“Don’t tease your sister, Innes.” Hayden scolds, putting down the plates in his hand to properly greet them. “Good to meet you…?”

“I’m Ephraim.”

“You can call me Hayden. My wife may have mentioned you’re a very good friend of Innes.”

“I hope I am. It’d be kinda sad if it was one-sided on my part.”

“What did we say about letting people know you care about them?” Naga wags a tong at him. “I’m sorry, Ephraim. He’s just shy.”

“It’s fine. I like that about him.”

“Finally, _someone_ who can appreciate it.” Tana offers her usual delightful commentary. “I was starting to think only our mom could.”

“Very funny, Tana. Now give me back my heated blanket.”

“Stop bringing that up!”

“I won’t until you give it back!”

“I’m not going to! Why do you need it so bad anyway? To warm your little toes since mummy can’t do it for you anymore? Wah! Wah!” Tana mocks him. “I’m wittle Nessy and all I do is complain and act shy!”

“And I’m _Wana-Nana_! All I do is take things that aren’t mine and eat cheerios off the floor when no one is looking!”

“Don’t call me that! You know I hate that!”

“Give me my blanket, then!”

“No!”

“Children!” Naga demands, effectively silencing them. “Not in front of our guest! You two know better than that.”

“She—“

“He—“

“—started it!” They both yell at the same time.

“How about this?” Ephraim sets a hand on his shoulder. “I’ll get you a new one.”

“I don’t want a new one.” Innes grumbles. Tana was so _childish_. Sometimes he could hardly believe they were related. “I want _mine._ ”

“ _Take your sugar daddy up on his offer why don’t you?_ ” Tana hisses in return, having the nerve to look smug about her incredibly not clever and false comeback.

“ _What did you say to me?_ ”

“ _Enough_.” Hayden ends their argument. “You’re making Tiki antsy. You know how she gets when she’s antsy.”

“I get _dancey_.” Tiki breaks it down all the way over to her chair. “If you don’t sit down now, I’ll eat all of your portions and even your dessert!”

Acknowledging that isn’t an outcome he wants, Innes backs down, his sister doing the same.

Every one settles in, Ephraim taking the seat beside him as everything is passed out. Naga takes the seat across from him. It’s a strategic move, if the glint in her eye is any indicator.

At the very least, she allows them a few peaceful minutes of eating. Innes finds solace in his mother’s usual talent when it came to warming his very being with her culinary skill. He could attempt to replicate anything she made as much as he liked, it never came out quite the same no matter how hard he tried.

Ephraim must think the same, because he’s instantly complimenting her.

“This is amazing!” He says, delighted by everything on his plate. “You’re very talented, m’am.”

“Oh, stop it, Ephraim. You’re too kind.” Despite the modesty of her words, it’s clear his mother is satisfied with the praise. “It’s a matter of experience. And profession, I suppose.”

“Are you in the food industry, too?”

“I sure am!” Naga responds proudly. “I work at the only place in town where you can get authentic Archanean cuisine. Most people come for the fish and chips but stay for everything else.”

“Is that where Innes gets it from?”

“Why, of course!” Naga confirms. “You should have seen him when he was a little boy. Always so eager to help around the kitchen. Never took no for an answer. He was peeling and searing and frying by the time he was seven. I always worried he would ruin his precious little hands but he didn’t care at all.”

“Treated all of his burns and scars as badges of honor.” Hayden adds with a fond smile. “Not once did he cry about them. He would patch himself up and keep going without a word. It always amazed me. Whenever I get paper cuts I can’t help but shed a tear or two.”

“Paper cuts are horrible, Daddy!” Tiki offers their father her own form of reassurance. “I got one today and cried for, like, twenty minutes!”

“I do recall you asking for the bandages with the trains on them.”

“Yeah!” She holds up the index figure with the aforementioned injury. “Cool, isn’t it Ephraim?”

“Sure is. I only have the boring tan ones at home. Myrrh keeps reminding me to get some nice ones but I always forget.”

“Myrrh? Isn’t that your friend, Tiki?” Naga asks, looking to Ephraim. “Are you her brother?”

“Myrrh’s my daughter.”

“Your daughter? But you’re so young!”

“ _Mother!_ ” Innes doesn’t mean for his voice to come across as defensive as it does. He knows his mother would never intentionally attempt to offend anyone, which makes his sudden outburst a bit embarrassing.

“My apologies! I didn’t mean anything negative by that!” Naga explains sheepishly. “It was only an observation.”

Ephraim laughs pleasantly, not the least bit offended. His hand brushes against Innes’s, most likely meant to reassure him, but it only serves to make his blood pressure spike. It doesn’t help that Tana catches the action, her smirk every bit as suggestive as Innes would rather it not be. His scowl doesn’t phase her at all, which while expected, is even more infuriating.

“No harm done. Means I’m still young enough to be considered cool, doesn’t it?”

“Join the club.” Hayden sighs solemnly. “My kids refuse to acknowledge how hip and relevant I am.”

“I think you’re the coolest.” Tiki says, miffed at any suggestion otherwise. “If I’m cool, there’s no way you aren’t! You’re _my_ dad!”

“What about us?” Tana asks, cheek resting against her hand. “Are we cool?”

“You’re up there.”

“And Mummy?”

“You’re wayyy up there!”

“And Innes?” Ephraim asks in his stead.

“…Eh, he’s maybe below rutabaga.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I’m below her least _most_ favorite vegetable.” Innes explains. “You’re as generous as always with your ratings, little sister.”

“I would have put you above, but you finished my pineapple soda the last time you came over and that makes me mad.”

“There was _one_ can left.”

“It was mine, you traitor!”

“ _It wasn’t even good_.”

“I’m gonna getcha!”

“Tiki, please put that roll of bread down.” Naga chides, steering the conversation over to Ephraim. “Now, what is it that you do? Innes doesn’t tell us anything about any of his very good  _friends_ unfortunately.”

“Why are you enunciating friends like that?” Innes asks. He is dutifully ignored.

“I’m a chef. I work across the street from Rausten.”

“So you _aren’t_ a work companion.” Naga nods. “How did you two meet?”

“He came over with his boss and gave my mille-feuille a five out five.”

“It was a four point one.” Innes corrects.

“Details.” Ephraim shrugs. “And then it sorta just developed from there. We’ve been at each other’s throats ever since.”

Tana chokes on her drink, coughing violently.

“Is everything all right?” Innes asks icily. She gives him a thumbs up.

“ _Super_.” She wheezes. “Don’t pay me any mind.”

“How wonderful. There really is something special about being able to bond over a mutual profession or interest.” Naga smiles. “I’m afraid I can’t trust my husband with anything food related. It all turns to rubbish in his hands.”

“That is one-hundred percent true.” Hayden laughs. “I may not be able to do anything but pour a bowl of cereal, but I can certainly appreciate the most delicious meals I’ve ever had. _My wife’s cooking_.”

“ _Dear!_ ” Naga squees, covering her face. “You’re the _sweetest_! Take note children.” She looks at them through the gaps between her fingers. “Appreciating each other’s cooking is an important step to a healthy and functional relationship.”

“I thought mutual respect was.” Innes says dryly.

“That too. But complimenting your partner’s cooking is also a big one.”

“Innes’s cooking is pretty delicious, so I doubt there’ll be a problem there.” Ephraim muses aloud. “Anybody would be lucky to have him.”

“Wouldn’t they?” Naga gushes. “My boy is perfect. The sweetest, smartest, most amazing son _ever_. I’m sorry Ephraim, but there’s no beating him.”

“Wouldn’t want to.” He grins. “I think so, too.”

Naga’s screech is high-pitched enough to nearly shatter their glasses. Hayden fans her with a napkin.

Innes covers his tomato red face.

Invite Ephraim over for dinner.

_What a terrible idea._

 

* * *

 

“I am _so_ sorry about them.”

“Stop apologizing.” Ephraim replies, nudging him in the side with his elbow, finishing off the last of his pudding. “I think your parents are cool. Gotta say though, at first glance, it’s hard to believe you’re related if you don’t consider looks.”

Innes stares out at the backyard, the sound of crickets stridulating the ambient noise to the night. They relocated to the back porch after dinner, Innes having had enough of his face feeling like it would combust at anymore of his mother’s unnecessary questions and stories about his childhood. Ephraim had been particularly engrossed in one about him chasing down and knocking the tooth out of another boy’s mouth for calling Tana a dumb girl and the resulting fallout.

“They’re all rather chipper, aren’t they?”

“Definitely. Makes me wonder why you’re such a grump.” Ephraim teases. “But I guess every family needs one of those. Someone’s gotta keep everyone else in line.”

“It hardly matters when they don’t listen.”

“It’s all part of the dynamic.”

“Easy words from someone who _isn’t_ the grump.”

“Why would I want to be? Sounds lame.” Innes’s glare is easily laughed off. “I think it’s nice, though. That they care about you so much."

“I would hope they do.”

“Yeah.” Ephraim stares down at his hands expression distant. “I don’t know...watching all of you? Makes me wish I could stop putting things off with my dad.”

“You _can_ do that.”

“But that involves talking to him.” Ephraim groans. “I don’t like the idea of being the first one to give in.”

“It’s not a matter of giving in.” Innes frowns. “You both have a reason to apologize. If anything, going to him first demonstrates maturity.”

“Exactly what I want.”

“Be serious, Ephraim.”

“I am. I _seriously_ don’t want to go see him.”

Innes’s lips press into a flat line. He wasn’t going to obligate Ephraim into doing something he didn’t want to do. His issues with his family were just that, _his_ business, and how he decided to deal with them was on him. Who was he to comment on it?

Well, Innes never was very good at keeping his mouth shut when necessary.

“I think you should.” Innes says, clear and honest. Ephraim wouldn’t look this sad if it didn’t bother him. There had to be something that could be done about it. “Even if his response isn’t what you’re looking for, at the very least, you can get your thoughts across.”

“It isn’t that easy.”

“ _I know it isn’t.”_ Innes responds, clutching his cup of pudding. He really should be eating it rather than speaking. “The least you can do is _try_.”

“What if…” Ephraim hesitates. “What if it doesn’t work out? What if all I end up doing is giving him another reason to hate me?”

“ _Hate you_?” Innes repeats incredulously. “Ephraim, I don’t think that’s possible.”

“But what if—“

“Since when were you a man of ‘what ifs’?” Innes demands. “Remember who you are.”

“Using movie references on me?”

“Maybe it’ll get through your thick skull that way. Charge forward like you always do and worry about the consequences later. You’ll find a way to deal with it if worst comes to worst, but you can’t even manage that if you don’t take the first step. You’re capable and competent and _I—_ “ Innes takes a spoonful of his pudding. “— _I believe in you_.” He swallows down the way his hands shake with a delicious bite of spongey cake, toffee sauce, and the delicate sweetness of vanilla ice cream. Perfection. There really was nothing like it.

Ephraim’s gaze burns into the side of his face. Innes keeps his focus on eating his pudding, because it would be a waste not to and also because he isn’t sure what else he might reveal if he allows himself to look back at him.

Much to his internal distress, Ephraim does what he does best, casually making Innes’s heart feel like it’s about to burst out of his chest by leaning against him so that they are arm to arm, his cheek resting in Innes’s hair.

“I’ll try.” He says, his voice upbeat and melodic, the way it should always be. “I won’t let you down.”

“It’s not about me.” Innes grumbles, indulging in his treat. Whether he’s speaking about the dessert or Ephraim is unclear. “It’s about you improving your relationship with your father. Do it for yourself.”

“I’ll do it for myself and for you to stop worrying about it.”

“ _I wasn’t worried!_ ” Innes snaps, shoving him away. It’s only then that he realizes his pudding isn’t in his hand anymore and Ephraim's empty glass is on the tray. “...You _rogue_! You stole my pudding!”

“Hm?” Ephraim tilts his head innocently, finishing it off. “I did?”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. You _believe_ in me.”

“ _I take it back._ ”

“Nope. Got it recorded in my brain forever.” He throws an arm around Innes’s shoulder, pulling him close again. “Thanks.” He murmurs. “I appreciate it.”

Innes doesn’t respond. He _can’t_.

Instead, he stares out at the garden, darkened by the late evening sky.

Maybe this had been a good idea, all things considered.

 

* * *

 

“What a sweet boy!” Naga tells him once Ephraim is gone, the door shutting behind him. “He’s absolutely perfect! You two make quite a pair!”

“Thank you?” Innes responds, confused by his mother’s wording.

“How long have you two been, you know…” She waggles her eyebrows suggestively. “An item?”

What?

“What?” Innes regards her with a blank expression, the meaning of her question finally sinking in. “Item? Mother, he’s not—We’re not— _No!_ ”

“No?”

“ _No_! What gave you that idea?” Innes exclaims, shocked by her assumption.

“It’s just, you were all dressed up and coquettish with one another—“ She explains, as confused as he is. “I thought this was your way of introducing him to us. When I said _very close friend_ , you didn’t suggest otherwise!”

“That’s an incredibly vague way to ask!”

“So we’re not getting a son-in-law?” Hayden asks, clearly disappointed. “I guess no flower arranging for your wedding…”

Gods above, what had Innes done to deserve this?

“Mom, it’s simple really.” Tana says matter-of-factly. “They’re not together right _now_.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “But they _want_ to be.”

“You want Ephraim to be your boyfriend?” Tiki worsens everything for him, completely genuine in her inquiry. “That means you’re gonna give each other cooties?”

“ _Tiki_.” Innes begs. “ _Please stop_.”

“Is this true son?” Naga asks, stone-faced. “Do you want Ephraim to be your love-muffin? Was this a cry for help in accomplishing that?”

“It wasn’t!”

“But what is the truth?”

Innes looks around the room, the faces of his family members determinedly staring back at him.

He couldn’t lie, even if he wanted to. They’d figure him out in an instant.

He sighs, relenting. It’s not as if he would trust anyone else with this information.

“ _Yes._ ”

Naga places her hands on his shoulders, her grip comforting, proud of his confession.

“That is _hella_ cute.” She says seriously. Innes can’t hide his cringe. “I approve. Go get him, tiger.”

“Is he any good with home improvement?” Hayden asks. “Because I could use some help replacing a few windows. A good son should be able to do that.”

“I will fight L’Arachel for that maid of honor position.” Tana chimes in, ruffling his hair. “The claws are out when there’s a wedding at stake.”

“S’that mean I’ll be able to see Myrrh a million times more?” Tiki cheers. “Because that sounds awesome! Make sure you marry him, Nessy!”

Innes feels every bit as horrible as he thought he would if he ever told his family about an affection he held for someone.

Strangely, it’s a good kind of horrible.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mama naga is basically us she supports her son in all his endeavors including capturing the hearts of cute jock boys
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	17. Teamwork Makes the Dream Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A team up of adorable proportions.

Innes is coupon-cutting one peaceful afternoon when he receives a call.

Frelia’s ears perk from the chair beside him, but otherwise she pays it no mind, dozing off in her typical manner. She tired herself out earlier swiping at loose pieces of paper scattered across the table, growing bored of the activity and deciding a cat-nap was in order.

Sliding his cellphone over, the sight of Ephraim’s contact image assaults his retinas with a smile much too perfect for _anyone_ to handle. Innes reluctantly answers. He really needed to get to the store soon if he wanted to use these coupons.

“What?” He asks, switching over to speaker mode to better multitask.

“U-Um…Mr. Innes?”

“Myrrh?” How unexpected.

“I’m sorry. Are you busy? I-If you are I can call back another day…”

“What happened?” Ephraim hadn’t attempted to incorrectly deep-fry a turkey again, had he? “ _Are you all right?_ ”

“Don’t worry! I’m not calling because anything bad happened!”

“Good.” Innes sighs, relieved such idiocy wasn’t anything he had to deal with today. “That’s very good. Are you _sure_ you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Great. To what do I owe this call, then?”

“Well, half of it was to say hi. Hi. How are you?”

“Hello. I’m doing fine myself. I’m not engaged in anything particularly interesting.” He found a discount for a waffle iron that was fifty-percent off, but there had been little else to get his adrenaline pumping. “And yourself?”

“Me too. I was finishing my summer packet.”

“You’re not out of school yet, though?”

“I thought it would be better to get it out of the way soon, so I don’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“That was a very responsible decision. Excellent job, Myrrh.”

“Thank you.” She laughs shyly. “Dad said he couldn’t believe how different he was as a kid.”

“I do not doubt it. I also do not doubt Tiki will be scrambling last minute to complete hers.” Not that Innes was never guilty of the same. He was a decent student, but not perfect. “I don’t want you allowing her to copy all of your answers. She needs to put in her own effort.”

“I won’t…” Myrrh _says that_ , but Innes is positive she will inevitably do the opposite. “Um, my second reason for calling was…you’re _really_ not busy?”

“I have time.” He wasn’t in _that_ much of a hurry to get to the store. “What is it?”

“I wanted to ask you for a favor.”

“And what is the nature of this favor?”

Myrrh takes a deep breath.

“It’s—My grandpa’s birthday is coming up and I had an idea. It’s about his gift. I wanted to try and make a cake for him…” She trails off, as if losing confidence in her own plan. “…It’s silly, isn’t it? We could just buy a cake. Mine probably wouldn’t taste good no matter how hard I tried and it’s _definitely a bad idea I should have thought of something else and—_ “

“ _No,_ Myrrh, it is _not_ a silly or bad idea.” Innes quickly asserts. “I think it’s an incredibly thoughtful one.”

“Really…?”

“Have you known me to spew falsities at the drop of a hat?”

“No…”

“Correct. I would not begin now.”

“I—You’re right. Thank you, Mr. Innes.” She lets out a shaky breath. “Sorry. I think I worry too much sometimes.”

“It’s fine to worry but not to needlessly spiral. There are many individuals you can approach for sage and responsible counsel if you are ever unsure about anything.”

“Okay…” Myrrh replies, slightly more confident in herself. “Are you one of them?”

“If you would like me to be.”

“Hehe, I wouldn’t have called if you weren’t!”

“Teasing me?”

“A little.” She giggles. “…Thank you again, Mr. Innes. I appreciate it.”

“It’s no trouble.” He brings a hand to his mouth, concealing the smile blossoming across his face. Nobody's watching him, but he can't really help it. “Now, back to the matter at hand.”

“…Oh! Right. Um…Yes, I want to make my grandpa a cake.”

“You require my assistance for this reason?”

“Yes. I-If it wouldn’t be a bother…”

Innes hums thoughtfully. What a request.

“Not that I am not willing to help, but wouldn’t your father be more adept at instructing you? I’ve told you I’m not much for desserts.

“Well…” Myrrh sighs. “I don’t think—I don’t want Dad to get mad at me or anything…”

“I sincerely doubt he would become angry over this.” Whatever Ephraim’s issues with his father, he would _never_ begrudge his daughter for wanting to do a kindness for him. “Do not believe anything you do for either of them could affect how they view you.”

“I know you’re right, Mr. Innes. It’s just…” She struggles to put her thoughts into words. “I think…I think it’d be better if I didn’t ask him. I don’t want to make anything worse. Even by accident.”

“You _wouldn’t_.”

“ _Mr. Innes_.” Myrrh’s tone is pleading. He doesn’t need to see her to know she has that same, adorable, doe-eyed look on her face. Not that it was necessary to convince him, because Innes found it incredibly difficult to deny her anything in general. “Please? I would really appreciate it…”

“I don’t know…“

“ _Please?_ ”

“…All right.” Innes relents. What harm could there be to trying? “While I do not agree with your perspective on this matter, I will acquiesce to your request. Keep in mind, results may vary.”

“Thank you so much!” Myrrh replies graciously. “I’m sure if we both try our best, it’ll come out great.”

Innes has his doubts. In his experience, _doing his best_ occasionally resulted in atrocious end products by means of _not knowing what he was doing_. But never one to crush the dreams of children, or more specifically being unable to say anything remotely negative to Myrrh, he says nothing about it.

“Are you sure your grandfather is partial to sweets?” He asks instead. If they were going to make something for him, ensuring he would enjoy it was important. “If he isn’t, it wouldn’t make sense to bake a cake.”

“Cake should be fine. He tries to hide it, but I’ve seen him sneaking cookies into his office. I asked him why, but he said I must have seen my _other_ grandpa and mistook him for _him._ But that doesn’t make sense because my other grandpa _really_ doesn’t like sweet stuff. I think he was trying to trick me because he’s embarrassed.”

“He has nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“That’s what _I_ said. He’s so silly.”

“Perhaps he will make an exception considering this is your gift to him?”

“I hope so—“ Myrrh abruptly stops speaking to him.. “… _Oh! I’m talking to Mr. Innes…”_ Ah, Ephraim had caught her. _“About what? Uh…he called! Because he, um, he really wanted to ask you an important question! I answered because I thought it would be nice to talk, and, um—”_ She returns to their conversation, whispering hurriedly. “ _Please hide this okay? Don’t tell Dad anything. Pretty please?_ ”

Innes doesn’t see the point, but decides to give her a break and play along.

“Understood. I have a question for him, don’t I?”

“ _Yes._ It was nice speaking to you too, Mr. Innes. I’ll pass you to Dad, so you can ask him that very important question you absolutely have for him! Bye!” The sound of the device being handed over follows.

“…Scheming with my daughter? You should know she’s a terrible liar.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Ephraim laughs.

“You two getting along warms my heart… _But really_ , what are you two planning?”

"Nothing of the sort is occurring."

"Don't lie to me, Nessy. I ain't no fool. I can see right through you."

"A strange claim. You cannot see me at all, right now."

"You know what I mean."

"Not a bit."

" _Innes._ "

“… _You’re right_.” Innes exaggerates a defeated sigh. “We _were_ planning behind your back.”

“Spit it out.”

“If you must know—“ Innes clicks mute, letting it rest for a few seconds before coming back. “—My apologies. Something just came up. I need to bid you farewell.”

“That sucks. Guess I’ll— _Wait a second_.” Ephraim catches on to his intentions faster than Innes expects. “ _You liar_. You’re trying to pull the wool over my eyes!”

“Nice idiom.”

“Thanks— _You did it again_! _Don’t seduce me with your compliments!”_

“I apologize for allowing my seductress ways to come between us,” Innes replies blandly _,_ getting up to walk over to his sink. “I know how much you enjoy a naughty literature lesson.”

“Damn straight. Read me a thesaurus _, you handsome devil._ ”

“I only take requests from equally as handsome men.”

“…Men? As in… _dudes_? You mean _handsome dudes_?”

“ _Yes_ , Ephraim, that means incredibly attractive _and_ intelligent men.” Also stupidly infuriating ones who were amazing at grating on his last nerve, but that was a conversation for another day.

“Really?” Ephraim presses. “Because you may think I’m a dumbass, but I have a masters in—“

“Oops—“ Innes turns on the faucet, turning it off again in short intervals. “I’m sorry Ephraim there’s— _a disturbance_.”

“Is that your sink?”

“Do I like pink?”

“No! Is that your—“

“— _We’re breaking up—Cannot hear you—Bad quality—Very busy—Leave a voicemail—Try again later.“_

“ _Innes, you di—“_

_“Bye.”_

He hangs up.

Ephraim may be the object of his affections, but Myrrh was the true apple of his eye. His loyalty was to her first and foremost.

“…I still need to finish cutting my coupons.” He sighs, taking a seat once again. Frelia stirs, continuing to sleep.

Maybe he could get to the store before midnight.

_Maybe._

 

* * *

 

The day of their meeting doesn't go completely as planned for Innes.

“… _And then—And then_ —Mummy told me Aunt Mila called because she and Uncle Duma got into a fight and she wanted someone to complain to. I didn’t get to talk to her which made me sad but Mummy said maybe Uncle Duma would call later and that made me feel better because I wanted to try a new knock-knock joke on him. He’s such a boring grouch. Kinda like you. I bet he reads newspapers about rocks. Like you! And guess what? He _did_ call! I tried my joke but he didn’t laugh. He said better luck next time and I was like ‘ _aww man_ ’ but then I told him about this huge dragonfly I saw in the backyard. I think he was happier about that than my joke. And…yeah, that’s what happened.”

“An amazing tale. However, there are a few discrepancies that need to be cleared up. First of all, I am _not_ a boring, grouch.” Innes corrects her, because Tiki’s statement is false and completely unsubstantiated. “Where could you have gotten that idea?”

“From you.”

“Well, it’s wrong. Secondly, I _do not_ read newspaper articles about _rocks_. I am very confused about that claim. Why would you think that?”

“Cause I saw you reading about that rock that landed in Archanea a long time ago.”

“It was a _meteorite_ , not a rock. And that’s an incredibly interesting and impressive happening!”

“Sounds like a dumb rock falling from the sky to me.”

“Whatever. Thirdly, I wasn’t going to tell you this out of respect for your feelings, but I have been successful in making our Uncle Duma laugh, _at the very least_ , three and a half times.”

“Why’s it a half?”

“He was under the effects of pain medication after having a wisdom tooth pulled out. I am not petty enough to count that as a full chuckle.”

“Whoa. That’s amazing. You’re pretty cool, Nessy. You made someone laugh _exactly_ three and a half times.”

“Are you mocking me?”

“Yeah.”

“Well stop it. It’s very rude.”

“ _It’s very rude_.”

“Stop mimicking me.”

“ _Stop mimicking me._ ”

“Do you want me to turn this bike around? Because I can bring you back home and I won’t care how much you cry.” The only reason he brought Tiki in the first place was because she somehow overheard him mentioning something about Myrrh’s plans to his parents _that same day._ The waterworks and _you’re a meany Nessy I thought you loved me’_ s thoroughly exhausted him, leading to the decision of allowing her to tag along.

“ _Stop being mean to meeee_!” Tiki whines, reluctantly stopping in her horrible impression of his voice. “ _Why don’t you love meeee_?”

“I love you a great deal.”

“Really? I love you too, Nessy! Even if you’re a boring grouch.”

“Tiki.”

“Okay, fine, I’ll stop. I’ll be on my very best behavior.”

Coming from Tiki, that did not fill Innes with confidence. He only hoped she wouldn’t cause too much of a ruckus. It wouldn’t do to leave a bad impression of themselves. This was, after all, Myrrh’s grandfather’s residence, not their own. Which begged the question of _why_ Myrrh decided to bake the cake where they could easily be caught. He’d been tempted to ask her, but let the matter drop. Whatever made Myrrh feel more comfortable was the better option, he supposed.

Innes focuses his attention back on the houses lining the street. He always had an idea of where the wealthiest neighborhoods within their city were, but actually riding through them was another matter entirely. They _towered_ over both he and Tiki, practically screaming expensive and luxurious. Innes wasn’t keen on purchasing a home with an excess of space without the need for it, but he could appreciate their architecture from an outside point of view. What was beautiful was beautiful. The large estates certainly earned their price tags.

“Keep an eye out for the address.” Innes tells Tiki, who is seated on the custom backseat of his bike. Still no closer to getting his license, his latest attempt a complete disaster if the hurried manner in which the driving instructor scurried out of the vehicle was any indicator, he was obligated to fall back on his usual methods of transport. “We should be getting close.”

“We better be. I can’t wait to eat cake!”

“We _aren’t_ eating cake. We’re preparing it. And it _isn’t_ for you. It’s for her grandfather.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t have a slice.”

As they get closer and closer to the end of the street, the houses begin to peter out, the road leading on towards what Innes assumes to be a cul-de-sac.He finds he is incorrect as they pass through a rather ridiculously large gate, rounding a fountain, the statue of a soldier holding a heavy shield and spear to his side at the center, water coursing out of his helmet. Innes halts halfway around the circuit, coming to a stop before a grandiose staircase leading up to the entrance of the home.

“Whoa.” Tiki utters at the residence they are presented with. Innes could not have said it better himself. “This is a _big_ house.”

“Indeed.” He glances around for an appropriate parking spot. “Where do you suppose I can leave my bicycle?”

“Chain it to the fountain.”

“And how do you expect me to— _A_ h, I see.” Innes hops off along with Tiki, wheeling the bike over to a short pillar attached to the fountain, the top shaped into the head of a lion.

“ _Roar!_ ” Tiki growls, fingers curling to resemble claws. “That’s pretty cool. It looks real.”

“The craftsmanship is respectable.” He hooks his bike lock around it, securing it appropriately. One could never be too careful. “I’m curious as to what inspired the soldier.”

“Maybe whoever bought or built it liked playing with the little green soldier toys they sell at the dollar store?”

“I doubt it.”

The pair bound up the stairs, Tiki humming a happy tune the entire way up. It was almost comical how they both gaped at the other homes scattered throughout the rest of the neighborhood, and how this one completely blew the others out of the water in terms of sheer size and appearance. Ephraim and Myrrh’s relation to such affluence still hadn’t quite clicked with Innes, as the two shared very little with the stereotypical hubristic and high-handed attitudes commonly associated with the wealthy. Maybe that was simply his bias speaking, but it was strange to think the same man who insisted on asking for Innes’s recyclables to trade in for a few cents was the same man who was the son of an incredibly opulent businessman.

“Wait!” Tiki yells when he is about to ring the doorbell.

“What?”

“I wanna ring it.”

“Can you even reach?”

“Pick me up!”

“I will do it—“

“ _No_! Lemme do it! C’mon!”

Innes sighs, hefting Tiki up. She proceeds to mash the button multiple times, the loud chime audible even from the outside.

“Don’t do that.” He scolds, setting her down again.

“Why? Is it rude?”

“ _Yes._ ”

“Oh. Sorry.”

After a short wait, much to Innes’s surprise, the door opens to reveal Lyon’s familiar face.

“ _Good afternoon. We’ve been expecting you_.” Lyon says in what’s presumably supposed to be a deep and gravelly voice. He chuckles right after it, destroying the illusion. “Not very butler-like, am I?”

“Not at all.” Innes responds. “Don’t tell me they have you guarding the door? At this rate, the entire town will be politely invited in.”

“Who says they haven’t been already?” Lyon says with a smile. “It’s nice to see you.” His gaze falls on Tiki, who has been watching their exchange with avid interest. “And who is this lovely young lady?”

“I’m Tiki. Are you Nessy’s friend?”

“Nessy?”

“It’s a thing.” Innes sighs. “It exists. I live with it.”

“It’s a nice nickname.” Lyon’s lips quirk. He’s clearly amused. “He is, in fact, my friend. I’m Lyon.”

“That’s a cool name.” Tiki compliments. “It’s almost like lion, but not lion. I guess you kinda look like a lion. Not a mean one. I mean a _nice_ lion.”

“That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“I’m the nicest person ever.” Innes would beg to differ, but whatever. “I also think you look like a prince.”

“ _Please stop_.” Lyon chokes out, covering his scarlet face. “I mean I’m thankful, Tiki, but it’s kinda embarrassing at the same time. Anyway, would you care to come in?”

“We’d love to!”

If Innes thought the exterior was amazing, the interior is doubly so.

“Whoa! There are _two_ staircases!” Tiki exclaims, running ahead to stand between them. “ _Two_! That’s bananas!”

“Very practical.” Innes comments dryly.

“I know, right?” Lyon replies, equally as unimpressed as he is. “I always thought it was a silly concept. Four is the bare minimum any home should have.”

“You’re right about that.”

They’re lead down the main hall, passing by rooms Innes does his best not to peek into. It’s very difficult, because he can tell they all easily dwarfed his _entire_ apartment. There were mansions and then there was _this_.

 _Gods_ , he couldn’t imagine living here. He would end up losing Frelia in the maze of rooms.

Gargantuan proportions aside, the architecture and furnishings are all elegant and sophisticated. What strikes Innes as odd are the peculiar color choices and patterns. Everything oddly comes together well despite that but…the _colors._

They were _incredibly_ familiar.

 _“…This is where he gets it from.”_ Innes says once it finally clicks. “He _inherited_ it _._ He got it from _here_.”

“Unfortunately.” Lyon confirms with a grimace. “They both think there’s nothing wrong with _searing our eyes_ with _highlighter yellow_ on entrance.”

“To each their own, I suppose.”

“But _our eyes_?”

“That’s the risk we run associating with these people.”

 _Finally_ reaching their destination, Lyon shows them into the most beautiful kitchen Innes has _ever_ laid eyes upon. The stainless steel appliances, the granite counter top, the shiny floors, even the window to cartoonishly place a fresh out of the oven pie on is perfect.

“Mr. Innes! You’re here!” Myrrh exclaims as they walk in, surrounded by ingredients and baking utensils, presumably for their little project. “Welcome!”

“Hello.” Eirika, who is seated beside her nursing a cup of coffee, greets.

“I’m here too!” Tiki makes her presence known. “Surprise!”

“Tiki!”

“Myrrh!”

“Is it all right that I brought her?” Innes asks Eirika while the two young girls embrace one another, as if it’s been years since they’ve seen each other and not a day or two. “I was placed in a difficult position.”

“She called you a meany didn’t she?”

“Possibly.”

“How the mighty fall.” Eirika laments. “It’s perfectly fine. You’re always welcome here.”

“I take it space isn’t an issue.”

“Do you have a problem with our two staircases, too? Because I’ll have you know the only fond memory I have of them is nearly cracking my head open because my brother and I thought racing down them with mattresses was a great idea.” Eirika slides her mug over to Lyon, who’s at the ready with a refill. “It _wasn’t._ ”

“ _Your mattresses are_ —Is there anything above a Magvelian king? How did you two manage to carry them over?” Lyon asks, brows furrowed.

“Ephraim’s super-human strength.”

“ _When_ was this?” Innes believes is the better question.

“About a year or two ago.”

“ _Eirika._ ”

“I don’t need you questioning my life choices, Innes.” She chugs down another cup of flat, black coffee. No sugar. No milk. No cream. He wonders what’s brought her to this point. “What I need is more caffeine.”

“Absolutely not.” Lyon scolds, taking the pot away from her. “No more.”

“ _But sweetheart_ —“

“ _No_.” Lyon stands firm. “You won’t be able to sleep if you have another.”

“I’ll crash eventually.”

“I’d rather it not come to that.” Lyon places a kiss on his grumpy wife’s forehead. “We don’t need you all jittery while you supervise.”

“Thank goodness someone will.” Innes mutters under his breath as he takes the liberty to wash his hands. His work with desserts wasn’t _abysmal._ His panettone bread pudding was all right. In fact, it was the only dessert he could make right. And even then it was still lacking. Yet here he was, planning on putting together a shortcake. At least it was only a practice run.

“Myrrh, to give you fair warning, should this not end well, I will hone my skills and return another day.” He addresses the little girl at the center of it all.The unsure expression on her face in response to his statement is concerning.

“Um…”

“...We have more time don’t we?” He questions. It sounds like he’s begging. Maybe he is, because _they have time, right?_

Eirika snorts.

“Nope. His birthday is _today._ ” She kindly informs him, confirming his worst fears.

“It’s…today?”

“I may have gotten the date confused…” Myrrh offers apologetically, a look most remorseful on her face. “I was going to tell you but I forgot. I’m so sorry, Mr. Innes!”

“You’ve got a few hours to get it right.” Eirika holds her empty mug up to him. “Cheers, mate.”

“ _This can’t be happening._ ”

“You can do it, Nessy!” Tiki declares confidently. “Even if you suck at sweet stuff, I still believe!”

“ _You’re not making me feel better._ ”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Myrrh hops onto the seat beside him, pulling up her sleeves. “Even if it’s not perfect, kinda okay should be fine. I wasn’t really expecting to make anything better than that.”

“Should I be thankful or offended?” He sighs, gathering his wits. If this was going to go well, they needed only to follow a recipe. One that was clear, concise, and offered plenty of room for error. “If I may ask, where is your grandfather?”

“He’s in his office upstairs.”

“And if he decides to come down for a snack?” Innes raises an eyebrow. “What then?”

“Don’t worry, I thought of that.” Myrrh taps a finger against her head. “I made sure to put a bunch of crossword puzzles on his desk.”

“What will that accomplish?”

“It means he won’t be down here anytime soon.” Lyon explains. “He really likes solving them.”

“Enough to forget his hunger?”

“Enough to forget _anything_.”

“…All right then.” Whatever they said. It wasn’t as if Innes knew any better. “Let us begin. Eirika, I expect you not to falter in your supervision duties.”

“I won’t.” She says. “I’ll watch and offer some commentary if it’s necessary. I don’t plan on backseat baking or anything like that.”

“I would rather you did.”

“Nope.” Eirika immediately refuses. “I’m off the clock. No cooking or in depth explanations from me.”

“Wait! Before we start,” Myrrh reaches across the kitchen island, grabbing and handing him an apron. “So your clothes don’t get messy.”

“My thanks?” Innes unrolls it, raising an eyebrow at the ruffles and ribbons, the words “SWEET AS SUGAR” printed on the front. “It’s…lovely?”

“It matches mine!” She suits up in her own, identical one. “They’re nice, aren’t they?”

They _were_ a pleasant shade of pink, but nothing Innes would ever willingly wear. Not that it mattered considering he would _not_ be refusing to don it, as Myrrh was very clearly enthused about them both synchronizing their wardrobe. He wasn’t anywhere near callous enough to downright reject her kind and hopeful offering.

“They… _are._ ” He agrees awkwardly, earning himself a bright smile. "How nice."

Eirika hides a smirk behind her hand but otherwise does not comment. Lyon gives him a supportive thumbs up. What great people, they were.

“You two look great!” Tiki, ever the positive thinker, compliments. “A real dream team! It’s kinda like how superheroes are superheroes because of their undies? Like, that’s where they get their powers from, right? It’s the same thing! You can be good bakers as long as you channel the energy from your aprons!”

“ _I don’t think that’s how it works._ ” and “ _You’re so smart, Tiki!_ ” are Innes and Myrrh’s respective responses.

 

* * *

 

“Well?”

“It—“ Eirika swallows a bite. “It tastes like baking soda. No good. Strawberries are pretty good.” She adds as an afterthought. “They need to macerate a little longer, though.”

“What are we doing _wrong_?” Innes asks nobody in particular, tossing another failed attempt into the trash can. “We’re following the recipe word for word. _Measurement for measurement._ Why isn’t it working— _Stop licking the spoons Tiki_! Those have flour on them!”

“Maybe you aren’t believing hard enough.” His sister continues to ingest raw flour mixed with heavy cream. It’s not even whipped yet _what is she doing?_ "Nonbelievers never prosper.”

“And believers shouldn’t eat flour.” Lyon gently slips the spoon out of her hand, patting her head to soothe away her whines and complaints. “Maybe we didn’t buy the right ingredients? Or maybe the brand matters?”

“No, we have everything we need. As for the brand, it really comes down to preference more than anything.” Innes turns to Myrrh, currently glaring at the various recipes they’d printed out on the spot when the first one didn’t end well, as though they have offended her in some grave and terrible manner. “Your thoughts?”

“These recipes are—excuse my language— _dumb_!”

“Now, now, none of that.” He takes the pieces of paper before she can tear them to pieces. “I’m sure whoever wrote these weren’t intending on my inability to keep a dry mixture from turning into liquid.”

“That was really weird.” Eirika frowns. “You didn’t even add anything liquid to it? How was it wet?”

“The mysteries of the universe are vast.” Lyon offers as explanation. Everyone nods in agreement.

“Unfortunately, this will be our final attempt.” They only have enough ingredients left for one more try. Innes slaps his cheeks to get a hold of himself, covering them with flour in the process. Ah well. He could worry about cleanliness later. It was _crunch time. “_ Are you ready, Myrrh? No more faltering. We either get it right or present your grandfather with a store bought dessert.”

“No way! Let’s do this!”

“Can I get the spoon back?”

“ _No, Tiki_.”

 

* * *

 

“Wow, that looks…kinda cute actually.”

“Please don’t patronize us.”

“I’m serious.” Eirika admires the sloppily put together strawberry shortcake. Innes wonders if she too shares her brother’s taste for anything of odd or bizarre appearance.

One layer is falling to the wayside, the strawberries are dripping out of the middle, down onto the crystal dish and there is an overabundance of cream courtesy of Tiki’s sudden insistence on helping them frost it.

All in all, amateurish to the core. Innes _could_ feel bad about it, but it was honestly their best attempt that entire day, appearance wise.

“I wonder how it tastes.” Tiki lays her head on the table, eyeing the finished product hungrily. “Can I—“

“— _What did I say?_ ”

“You say a lot of things, Nessy. I can’t keep up with all of ‘em.”

“She’s ruthless.” Lyon whispers to him. “And here I thought kids were sweet and innocent.”

“Myrrh leads you to believe that.”

“True.” They watch said child make heart patterns on the flour coating the counter, finishing it with a smiley face. She has to push Tiki’s hand away when she attempts to gather it on her fingers to have a taste. “I hope he likes it. You two worked so hard.”

“A total of how many disasters?”

“Seven.” Eirika provides. “Think this’ll be number eight—“

“—Eirika? Lyon?” A dignified gentleman suddenly hastens into the kitchen, holding a thin book in his hands. “Quickly! A five letter word for—!” He stops short when he notices the mess, along with two unknown faces. “…We have company? Why the hell didn’t anyone tell me!”

“Surprise!” Tiki exclaims. “Myrrh baked you a cake, awesome grandpa with a cool beard! Happy birthday!”

“That’s today?” The man looks down at the floor pensively. “…Huh, guess it is. Thank you for the well wishes, small child with a pleasant accent. Gotta name?”

“I’m Tiki. I’m just here to eat flour!” She points to her brother. “This is Innes. He’s my older brother. He helped Myrrh bake this amazing cake for you, even though he’s really _super bad at it—_ “

“— _That’s enough._ ” Innes hisses, his sister sticking her tongue out at him. “Pardon our intrusion, sir. And the mess, I suppose.” Gods, how horrible they must look. Complete strangers messing up his kitchen. He must be livid or at the very least about to lose his last nerve—

“Eh, it’s fine. We’ve got a Roomba for a reason.” He walks over to the disk shaped vacuum resting on the floor, tapping its on button with his foot. It instantly comes to life, beginning its journey around the kitchen. “Her name is Renais. She’s an old girl, but she’s still got a good amount of life left in her.”

“Renais?” Innes looks to Eirika, who’s conveniently staring off into another direction. “Did you name your restaurant after your father’s _vacuum?_ ”

“It’s a good name!”

“ _It’s a vacuum!_ ”

“ _She’s_ a vacuum.” Lyon corrects, walking over to a storage closet to pull out a broom, helping Renais with the clean up.

“I cannot believe this.”

“What does it matter? It’s a great name.” Eirika points to her father. “Even _he_ thought it was a great idea!”

“Aye, I did. I’m Fado, by the way.” He smiles brightly at Innes. It’s so oddly familiar his heart clenches at the sight. “It’s a funny little story, ain’t it? Sounds damn pretentious but it’s based off our family pet!”

“Why did you decide on a vacuum as a pet?” Innes inquires. Not the oddest thing he’d heard of. Many people who owned Roombas affectionately referred to them as pets despite being machinery made for home cleanliness.

“Why else?” Fado tells him as if the answer is obvious. “My kids couldn’t be trusted to take care of a _rock_. You know they lost their pet parrot?”

“He flew out the window when we weren’t looking!” Eirika defends herself. “It was an accident!”

“How old is she?” Innes asks, genuinely curious. Renais _was_ quite adorable, the way she was slowly sucking up baking soda off the ground.

“Over twenty years old.”

“She’s so young!” Tiki chimes in. That earns her a hardy laugh from Fado.

“Ain’t she? I think she’ll make the big one-double ‘o’ at this rate. But enough about that. You kids’ve got a cake for me?” He eyes the, frankly, mess of a shortcake. “Ya didn’t have to go through the trouble of making me anything.” He ruffles Myrrh’s hair affectionately, fondly laughing off her cries of embarrassment. “‘Specially not any sweets. You know how much I hate sweets, little warrior.”

Rather than becoming upset or hurt, Myrrh merely gives her grandfather a very unimpressed look.

“You hate them so much, you sacrifice yourself to get rid of them for us, right?” She asks sarcastically.

“You know your granddad. Self-sacrificial to the core.” Fado nervously holds her gaze, the little girl puffing out her cheeks with ire.

“Then I guess I’ll just give this away…Or maybe even throw it in the trash!”

“NO!” Fado insists. “Don’t do that!”

“But you hate sweets don’t you?” She asks innocently. “This is a big no-no for you, isn’t it?”

“Don’t be mean to grandad, Myrrh. You’re hurting my feelings.”

“Then you’ll eat it in front of all of us?”

“…Aye.” Fado sighs. “I will.”

Innes is throughly amused by her triumphant smile. It looked like Myrrh knew _exactly_ how to run her household. Maybe she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared?

“All right, gather around, children.” Fado beckons them over, searching through a cabinet. “Let’s cut her up. How should I—“

“ _Wait!_ ” Myrrh suddenly exclaims, holding up a hand.

Fado freezes in place, about to grab a cutting knife.

“Yeah?”

“You can’t eat it yet!”

“I can’t?”

“No!”

“Why?”

“Because you—you can’t!”

“It ain’t nice to taunt me, kiddo. D’you want me to eat it or not?” Fado frowns, clearly anxious to have a slice. Innes wonders how he’ll feel if it tastes like disappointment and failure.

“I guess it wouldn’t be right.” Eirika says. “Morva isn’t here after all.”

“Yes!” Myrrh nods, clearly panicked. Innes finds it a bit odd. What was she so worried about? “We can’t start if grandfather isn’t here!”

“He doesn’t even like this stuff.” Fado goes to cut a slice for himself again. “He won’t mind if we start without him.“

“Grandpa, stop!”

“…Oh, _I get it._ ” Tiki nods, as if all the pieces have fallen together for her. “You want everyone to be here so we can sing happy birthday! It’s so obvious! Hold your horses, grandpa! We’ve gotta sing you the song!”

“It’s so embarassin’, though?” Fado groans. “I don’t want to be reminded of how old I am.”

“Whatcha talking about? Age doesn’t matter.” Tiki tells him. “My grandpa Gotoh is, like, _a million years old_ but he went skydiving last year anyway. _And_ he climbed Mt. Archanea by himself. _And_ he survived fifty days in the Khadein dessert without any food or water just because he wanted to try it.” She grins proudly. “Old people are the best!”

“You’ve got one badass grandpa.” Fado replies, impressed. “I like you, child. Think your parents would be upset if I took your sister in as one of my own, Innes?”

“You would be asking for a battle to the death.” Naga was not a woman to be trifled with, especially when it came to her children. “My mother’s left hook was particularly infamous in her youth, or so I’m told.” Apparently, it was what enamored his father one fateful day, as he’d accidentally been on the receiving end of it when his mother missed her target in the middle of a brawl.

“What a family. I’d like to meet them one day.”

“Oh, I’m sure you will.” Eirika comments cryptically, eyeing Innes meaningfully. “Right, Innes?”

“What?”

“Wait, where are the candles?” Tiki asks. “Do we have any?”

“Child, I stopped counting how old I was years ago.” Fado tells her. “No need to learn or share that information.”

“Age is but a number?” Lyon offers weakly.

“See, this is why you’re my favorite son.” Fado pats Lyon on the back. “Ephraim’s always calling me old. He’s always…” The man pauses, his mood shifting from joyous to melancholic. “…Well, not as of late, I guess.” Innes notes the way Myrrh also grows solemn, the awkwardness of Lyon’s expression, Eirika’s blatantly aggravated grunt. It’s clear they’ve all been affected by the strain between father and son. How horrible it must be to be unable to be together over a tiff between two family members, especially if they were all as close as they all seemed to be.

‘ _It’s a family matter_.’ Innes tells himself. ‘ _It’s not anything I should involve myself in. Ephraim wouldn’t appreciate it. He said he would handle it. He said he would try. He told me and I said I believed he would. I shouldn’t—‘_

“ _Why_?” Innes blurts out, because what does keeping your mouth shut even mean? “I don’t see why a few differences in opinion should keep the both of you from interacting.”

“It was a little more than that.” Fado shrugs. “Don’t pay it any mind. It’s a personal problem.”

If that wasn’t a blatant ‘ _mind your own business_ ’, Innes didn’t know what was. It bothers him, but what can he be expected to do about it? Backing off would be the best option, lest he place himself in hot water over a problem that he wasn't in any position to offer his two cents over.

“Wouldn’t speaking to each other be a better option?” Innes presses on, _because of course he does_. He may criticize Ephraim for being blunt and reckless, but Innes wasn't always tactful either. “If it’s this upsetting, surely discussing it would do some good.”

“While I appreciate your concern, I think it’d be better for you to drop this, Innes.” Fado warns. “This is between me and my son. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Is it between you and your son when even his most distant of acquaintance can notice how it’s affecting him? I’m not questioning your actions. I’m only suggesting a better way to resolve your issues with one another.”

“Are you a counselor now?”

“It’s called conflict resolution.” Not that Innes was the best at it, but he _had_ to have learned _something_ from his parents insistence on sitting him down to vent his feelings whenever he was even slightly angry or annoyed throughout his childhood and teenage years. _They still did it._ Distance was no problem with video chat available. “A basic concept.”

“You callin’ me stupid, boy?”

“ _Do not_ misconstrue my words.” Innes spits back. “If you made an effort to deal with this, maybe your son would actually _be here_.”

Lyon immediately signals for him to stop, a nervous smile on his face. Eirika watches on, making no effort to stop him. Tiki glances around at all of them, confused by the abrupt change in atmosphere. Innes should stop. Maybe apologize for sticking his nose where it didn’t belong.

Fado is intimidating, but Innes isn’t afraid. He wasn’t taught to cower away from his convictions.

“I suggest you stop right there, Innes.” Fado warns. “This ain’t your territory.”

“Perhaps not. But it isn’t _my son_ who hasn’t spoken to me in months.”

Fado’s flinch does make him feel a bit bad. He didn’t come here to antagonize him or solve Ephraim’s problem, but it was more than a little frustrating to witness these two clearly miss one another and refuse to do anything about it.

“I agree!” Myrrh suddenly pipes up, hands clasped together. “I think Mr. Innes is right. You should both talk about how you feel.”

“Myrrh.” Fado’s demeanor visibly softens. “You shouldn’t—“

“I shouldn’t worry?” She finishes his statement for him, her own gaze hardening. “You keep saying that but how can’t I? Dad looks _so sad_ when I talk about you. And you look sad when I talk about him.”

“Yeah!” Tiki joins their cause. “And then Myrrh looks sad and that’s not okay! I’ll fight anyone who makes Myrrh sad!” She stops, pausing to think. “But I guess beating up her grandpa would make her sad, too…I won’t do that, then. But I’m with Nessy and Myrrh! Mummy and Daddy say talking about your feelings is nothing to be ashamed of and I agree. It’s great!”

“And I…I also agree with them.” Despite his previous attempt to get Innes to stop, Lyon stands by them, facing Fado with determination. “This may be between you and Ephraim, but the rest of us care about you both, too. If there’s a problem, it affects all of us. Don’t act like…like we shouldn’t have a say. We aren’t saying this to be annoying. We’re saying this because we care.”

“I _know_ that. I know…” Fado sighs, his shoulders slumping. “…Y’know, it’s really not nice when all you kids gang up on me. What am I supposed to do?”

“ _Listen_.” Is Myrrh’s stoic response. It earns a snort from Eirika, who remains at a distance.

“I know you have an opinion, too.” Fado says to his daughter. “May as well spit it out.”

“Oh, I do. Thing is, I have neither the energy nor the patience to deal with it right now. Thanks for leading the charge, Innes.”

“You’ve got some gall, all right.” Fado gives him a curious look, lacking any anger. “We’ve only just met and you’re already bossing me around and telling me how to better my life.” He momentarily turns his attention to his granddaughter. “I wasn’t sure earlier but now I am. This is the one you mentioned, right Myrrh? Ephraim’s buddy?”

“Grandpa!” Myrrh’s cheeks redden. “Don’t tell him!”

“Why? I like his spunk.” He laughs. “Innes, I have spent the last _however many damn years of my life_ having people yes man me on a daily basis. Gotta say, it’s a bit refreshing to have a kid I just met tell me to get my shit together. “

“I meant no disrespect, sir.”

“Oh _you meant it_. I’m glad you did, because I needed that.” Fado claps him on the shoulder. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“You give my son this kinda treatment?”

“Whenever I think it’s necessary.”

“Good. Don’t hold anything back when it comes to him. Gods know he takes after me more than I would have liked him to.”

“So this means that you’ll talk to him?” Myrrh asks hopefully.

“Tell you what. Next chance I get, I’ll take your advice and try not to make myself sick with mushy emotional stuff.”

“Today’s your luck day, then!” She cheers happily.

In a moment that has to have been completely anticipated and planned, footsteps echo down the hall, reverberating loudly until they finally reach the kitchen.

“Special delivery.” Another older gentleman appears. “As you requested, Myrrh.”

“Thank you, grandfather.”

“Delivery?” The topic of their conversation also joins the celebration, sporting a confused and suspicious expression. “What happened to needing help with a leak?”

“I lied.” Is the flat response. “I see we have guests.”

“Apologies for the intrusion.” Innes immediately says. Fado scoffs.

“It ain’t no intrusion. I already told you that. Morva, that’s Innes. Little one is Tiki. They both came over to show me the true meaning of birthdays.”

“I’ll have to thank you both for that.” Morva smiles graciously. “I apologize for our tardiness. We were running a few errands together. I hope we’re still on time for cake.”

“You just made it!” Myrrh looks pointedly at her father. “Won’t you stay, Dad? We’d all like it if you did.”

“You sure about that?” Ephraim frowns, glancing warily at his father. “Looks like you’d be fine without me.”

Lyon prods Fado’s arm, silently encouraging him to answer. The man’s jaw clenches, his fingers curling tightly, his posture stiff.

“I’d...I'd like it if—“ It’s obvious this doesn’t come easy to Fado, but his perseverance is admirable. “—If you’d join us.”

Ephraim blinks, surprised by the answer.

“Really?”

“Yes.” Fado shrugs off his own embarrassment, looking to the side. “I would.”

Ephraim indecision is obvious, the way he eyes the exit a dead give away. His gaze somehow manages to fall upon Innes who, while surprised at the genuine lack of confidence, nods. It was as good a chance as he would ever get. Seeming to understand, Ephraim also nods, a small, relieved smile gracing his lips.

“All right.” He finally answers. “I will.”

The tense atmosphere almost instantly dissipates, giving way to excited chatter as plates are passed around and the birthday boy himself refuses Morva’s offer to retrieve any candles.

Ephraim sidles up to Innes, sighing softly.

“Afterwards.” He murmurs. “After this we’ll talk.”

“Good.”

“This is what you two were planning?”

“All I was informed about was the need to help with the cake.” Innes watches Myrrh chastise Fado when he nearly tosses the candles into the garbage. “The rest was her doing, I assume.”

“She beat me to it. Can’t even brag to you about how mature I am anymore.”

“Perhaps. But you stayed. That’s something to be proud of.”

“Thanks.” Ephraim smiles at him. “I have to ask though, what’s up with the apron?”

“Also your daughter’s doing. She insisted we match.” Innes tugs at the ruffles and lacy fabric. “It was a kind gesture on her part, but I don’t think I would ever voluntarily wear this ever again.”

“Doesn’t really do anything for me, either.” Ephraim eyes it disinterestedly. “It’s nice and all, but your usual is way better.”

“It’s the neckerchief, isn’t it?”

“Hell yeah. Think the cake’ll be any good?”

“I sincerely doubt it. Get ready to taste concentrated saltines."

"Can't be that bad."

"Eight attempts. _Eight_."

"...Ninth time's the charm?"

" _Absolutely not_. I am not subjecting myself to this again at any point in the near future. If she needs help with desserts, that is _your_ responsibility.”

“That’s what you get for keeping me out the loop. I could have helped.”

“T’was not in the cards. Myrrh trusted me with confidentiality. I would not break it so easily, even for you.”

“Would you consider it if it was a really serious thing?”

“Of course.” Innes answers instantly. “I hope you do not consider this a serious enough matter, putting your issues aside?”

“Nah, this was fine.” Ephraim bumps his arm. "Don't think she learned much about baking, though, if what you're saying is true."

"Shut up."

"Hey, grandpa and grandfather?" Tiki says, gathering everyone's attention. "I gotta question about your house."

"Ask away." Morva's lips quirk at her straight-forward attitude.

"What's up with the solider dude in front? Why is he there?"

"Oh, that thing?" Fado grins. "I liked playing with the green soldier toys they sold at the dollar store when I was a kid. It's a bit of nostalgia, I guess."

"Aha!" Tiki points at Innes, her smug smirk making him sigh. " _Told you!_ "

"I am but a fool."

There are laughs all around. Innes thinks nothing of it. Feels bad about it really.

Especially when after the singing of the sacred birthday song, there are grimaces all around over the sheer terribleness of the cake.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's why Innes doesn't like desserts.
> 
> On an unrelated note, mama Naga's in FEH! It makes me a little sad I won't be summoning for her since I'm saving, because I would love to have her, Tiki, Innes, and Tana on a team in honor of this fic. Ah well, maybe one day.
> 
>  
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!


	18. Summer's Arrival (Part One)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Innes needs a break. Ephraim gladly proposes one.

“—it was great. Got it all on camera. Myrrh was so sweet afterwards. Helped her opponent up and everything. I took a bunch of pictures when she got her new belt. I’m telling you, she’ll be at the top of her class in no time.”

“Mm.”

“You should come next time. I think she’d appreciate seeing you on the sidelines.”

“Mhm.”

“It would definitely give her a confidence boost if you did.”

“Uh…huh.”

“Innes? Are you paying attention?”

“Mmm.”

“ _Innes_.”

“Wha…?” Innes startles at the firm manner in which he is addressed, blinking away the blurriness of his eyes. He refocuses his attention from pulling Rausten’s shutters down to the concerned expression on Ephraim’s face. “Pardon, what were you saying?”

“I’ll tell you later.” A frown is directed his way. “You okay, there? Don’t see you zone out very often.”

“My apologies.” Innes sighs, rubbing at his eyes. They stung, presumably a bit bloodshot, aching with the need for Innes to throw himself into bed and finally get some sleep. “L’Arachel is currently out. She’s tasked me with opening and closing.”

“Is that what’s been keeping you these past few days?”

“Yes. If it was an issue, you needn’t have waited for me. I can get home by myself.”

“It’s not like I mind but…” Ephraim purses his lips. “You’ve been covering extra shifts too.” He states rather than questions.

Innes nods.

“Gerik’s allergies were rather terrible this week and Marisa is preparing for a match.”

“A match?”

“Boxing.”

“That’s awesome.”

“A bit too gruesome for my tastes,” Innes grimaces. While Marisa had indeed earned her undefeated streak, it was incredibly difficult to stomach watching her get hurt in order to achieve it. “She’s very talented.”

“Think she’d mind if we dropped in on her one day?”

“It would likely embarrass her.” He didn’t understand _why_ , but Marisa was a rather strange person in general. How she could beat someone within in inch of their life in front of a stadium full of people but grow flustered at the sight of someone she knew in the crowd was equally as confusing as it was endearing. “I’ll ask her about it when I have the opportunity.”

“You should.” Ephraim says. “Since half of the crew is missing, that means you’ve been plugging any gaps, huh?”

“We’ve been a bit short on staff.”

“And you told them you could handle it.”

“I did and I have been.” Not without issue. He, Joshua, and Tethys had managed to keep things afloat thus far despite the lack of manpower. Even Dozla had remained consistent in his presence, refusing to leave until they were all reunited. A rough few days, but nothing that couldn’t be dealt with. “We’re fine.”

“Are you sure you’re not, I don’t know, working yourself into the ground?”

“ _You’re_ working yourself into the ground.” It’s a weak and downright embarrassing comeback, but Innes can’t really think straight enough to bother coming up with a better one. He was running on fumes at this point.

“Yeah, that’s as good a sign as any that you need some time off.” Ephraim nudges the bags under his eyes. “I thought you looked a little worse for wear.”

“Thank you for the compliment, you oaf. Exactly what I need in such a trying time.”

“Honesty is the best policy, isn’t it? Besides,” His hand travels upward, smoothing Innes’s hair out of his face. “Even at your worst, you still look pretty good.”

“If I had one iota of feeling left within me, I might have thanked you for that.” Innes deadpans. “Unless that was a roundabout insult. In that case—“ He pauses. “I…can’t think of anything to call you right now. Check back later.”

“Now you’re really scaring me.” Ephraim regards him with great worry. “You need a break.”

“I do not have the luxury of taking one at the moment.”

“Then…how about after this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Eirika’s closing up shop for a week soon.” Ephraim explains. “She does it every few months to give us a break. The both of us have been talking about heading down to the shore with Myrrh since she’s out of school. If you want, you could come with us.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“You kidding me? I’m more offended _you think_ you’d be imposing.”

“One can never be too courteous.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to tone it down in your case.”

“Giving me permission to treat you in an excessively ungracious manner?”

“You already do that.”

“…Right.”

“ _C’mon_ , think about it.” Ephraim insists. “Relaxing on the beach, enjoying the ocean breeze. Uh, being real chill and like, not doing anything?”

“You are really selling this pitch.”

“Exactly why I’m still in marketing, right? Look, you can go for a swim, take a walk down the boardwalk, play a game or two. Eat some nice seafood—I know a few good places you’ll definitely love—It’ll be great. Forget about work and _relax_. Lyon’s coming too, so you two can chat about what it feels like to be workaholics if you’re really that desperate.”

“And what about the logistics? Where would we be staying?”

“We’ve got a little house— _Don’t give me that look_.”

“Is there a way for you to say that without sounding like a tool?” Innes huffs out an exasperated laugh. “You’ve got a house by the beach with an amazing view? Are we getting there by private jet?”

“Do you want to come or not?” Ephraim all but pouts, irritated by the teasing.

“ _Patience_. I understand you are clamoring for my answer, as you would no doubt enjoy my presence on such a picturesque vacation, but hold a moment. I must think your offer over before I allow you to whisk me away.”

“Be spontaneous. _For once_.”

“Desperate, Ephraim?” Innes smirks, taking great pleasure in the embarrassed flush that overcomes the other’s cheeks, the manner in which his eyes dart from side to side almost eliciting another laugh. He isn’t quite sure why his words have prompted such a reaction, but it’s a satisfying victory to hold over the other regardless. “I’m honored.”

“Don’t be a dick.” Ephraim scowls. “I could un-invite you and you’d never see my awesome beach house that I don’t actually own.”

“Would you?”

“…Probably not.”

“I thought as much. In any case, I will need to ask L’Arachel.” Innes finally offers as a response. Now that the possibility of taking off from work was presented to him, it was finally setting in just how exhausted he was. The soreness in his muscles was more pronounced than ever. Perhaps that summer week promised to him during Rausten’s winter renovations was finally going to be put to good use. “Once I have a concrete answer, I will let you know.”

“You can invite your sisters too if you want. We’ve got space.”

“At your wonderful beach house?”

“At my wonderful beach house that isn’t mine.” Ephraim reiterates with a smile.

“I’ll let them know.” Innes locks the shutters before rising to his feet again. “…You really didn’t have to wait for me to finish.” He wasn’t quite sure of when they’d fallen into this particular routine, Ephraim waiting for Innes after work to drop him off, but it wasn’t as if he could complain.

Did it make him feel guilty? Of course. Innes made sure his thoughts were known. However, any protests on his part were met with stubborn resistance and the usual brand of bickering over a completely unrelated topic.

“Still whining about that?” Ephraim rolls his eyes. “Let’s just say I have a vested interest in you _not getting robbed_ on your way home.”

“That would be unfortunate.”

“Exactly. Which is why—“ Ephraim takes his bag, hand settling at the small of Innes’s back to lead him in the general direction of his car. “You should let me do this for you.”

“I’m swooning.” Innes snatches his possessions back with a sneer. “Careful, I may actually be stupid enough to fall for you.”

It’s a funny and clever quip until Innes remembers he actually _is_ and has to resist hurling himself into the nearest trash can.

“Make sure you tell me when you finally do.” Ephraim’s flirtatious smile is infuriating in all its presumptuousness. “I’m ready when you are.”

Innes actually considers crawling into the dumpster behind Rausten and staying there for the rest of his life.

 

* * *

 

Getting permission to take off for a week is both entirely too simple and incredibly excruciating.

L’Arachel gives into his request for leave easily enough, insisting he deserved it after his performance during her absence. Innes doesn’t believe he did anything worthy of her praise, but appreciated the sentiment behind her kindness all the same.

Where everything fell apart was when she asks what he planned to do with the time off. Innes, in all his innocence and still suffering from the effects of sleep-deprivation, forgetting that Rausten’s walls had many a pair of ears scavenging for juicy material to gossip about, foolishly mentioned his plans to his well-intentioned boss. Including a _very specific name_.

Like creatures of prey, his coworkers had jumped on the information, bursting in from seemingly nowhere to grill him on every. Single. _Detail_.

 _Excruciating_.

Absolutely _excruciating._

He was already dealing with the consequences of Tana accidentally alluding to the admittance of his feelings within a group message, the resulting terror involving the entire chat devolving into a showcase in the art of embarrassing him with congratulations and, worst of all, tips on how he should _‘effectively’_ pursue Ephraim. They ranged from _‘take him out to dinner and go for it_ ’ to ‘ _flash him some leg and watch him melt_ ’ to ‘ _punch the shit out of him and act embarrassed he’s probably into that if he’s into you_ ’ and even a ‘ _consensually show each other your junks.'_ All in all, exactly what he expected from them. While the dinner idea was functional, the rest left him questioning his association with these people. It didn’t take much to decide he would gladly rely on his own judgement and not whatever his friends thought counted as relationship building.

Needless to say, Innes really should have considered _where_ he was before opening his mouth. That was poor decision making on his part. At the very least he’s able to give Ephraim confirmation, along with Tana and Tiki’s (they both agreed before he could even finish asking the question), receiving an excited response in return.

Preparing for the—Did this count as a vacation? Innes wasn’t sure. It had been a while since he was gifted with a period of more than two days off.

Regardless, preparing isn’t all that tedious a task. One too many camping trips into the wilderness with his grandfather had taught Innes much about what was and wasn’t necessary to bring along on extended outings. This trip wouldn’t be anything near as extreme as observing the herding patterns of the wild caribou roaming Archanea’s icy North Eastern Territories, but the lessons in practicality were easily transferable.

While he’s at it, he also arranges for Frelia to stay with his parents. Innes is admittedly a bit hesitant to do so, but there is very little other option and from their few interactions, it seemed as though his parents enjoyed her presence enough to grant him the favor. Part of him is interested in observing Frelia’s reaction to the sea, but given her breed’s quintessential lack of thick fur, it would put her at great risk for sunburn (not unlike himself) and that was simply not a cruelty he would ever subject her to. Thus, he makes the call. His father agrees, excited to accept her into their home, promising to treat her as he would a grandchild.

It doesn’t make parting from her the day of their departure any easier, but he’s happy to know she’s in good hands.

 

“Oh, Ephraim!” Naga cries out in despair, holding back tears as she clings to the porch railings. “Please, _oh please_ , take care of my babies! Make sure they hold hands when they cross the street and don’t let them talk to any strangers!”

“You have nothing to worry about m’am.” Ephraim takes her hands in his. “I’ll protect them with my life.”

Naga gasps, a high-pitched keening sound escaping her throat.

“It’s _mom_.” She croaks out. “Call me _mom_.”

“Not until we tie the knot.” Ephraim jokes.

Naga heaves.

“Okay, I think you’re scaring everyone.” Hayden allows his wife to collapse into his arms. “Please ignore her. She’s just looking forward to some lovely souvenirs.” He flashes his son a thumbs up. Innes doesn’t think it helps, but he cherishes the thought behind it anyway. “A keychain or two would be nice.”

“I’ll bring back plenty.” Ephraim promises. “And I’ll definitely make sure they call every day and eat all of their vegetables, too.”

“I’ll hate you forever if you do, Rem-Rem!” Tiki yells from her place in the car, beside a giggling Myrrh. “I thought this was going to be _fun_!”

“What _isn’t fun_ is vitamin deficiency.” Innes tells her, ignoring the raspberries blown his way. “Now sit still and put your seatbelt on.”

“Nessy is telling me what to do, Lyon!”

“I’m going to have to agree with him.” He gives her an apologetic smile. “Seatbelts on at all times within the vehicle.”

“Is your mother always like this?” Eirika asks, watching Naga curiously while she embraces Ephraim for the umpteenth time, her brother offering her words of reassurance.

“Only when she really likes someone.” Tana informs her. “And she happens to really like Ephraim. Already considers him a son. Can you believe that?”

“No.” Eirika replies bluntly. “He doesn’t have to do anything and he gets people to like him? That’s a craft I’ve worked on for _years._ How dare he? And right in front of me! _”_

“I thought it came to you naturally.” Innes responds. While he respected Eirika’s professionalism when it came to her job, he would be lying if he said he preferred it over her natural, cynical and completely done with this world demeanor. “Either way, I think it would be strange if you were suddenly all smiles and completely air-headed. No offense, Myrrh.”

“I’m not offended.” She blinks innocently. “I think Dad’s kind of an air-head, too…”

“You’re racking up those points, Innes.” Eirika wags a finger at him. “Keep it up. I might even consider _not_ embarrassing you at your wedding.”

“I’m getting married?”

“Tiki told us.”

“No, I didn’t! It was Tana! She told me and I told everyone!”

“You weren’t supposed to say anything, Tiki!” Tana cries out. “Now he’s going to be cranky about it!”

“ _You’re getting married_?” Lyon inquires, completely lost within the conversation.

Innes facepalms.

Such was his life.

Eventually, Naga and Hayden bid them a safe journey, and they finally hit the road. Innes is forced into the front passenger seat at Tiki’s insistence (“You’re gonna nag at me the whole time so sit far away”) with Ephraim at the driver’s seat, Eirika and Lyon relaxing in the middle, and Tana, Tiki, and Myrrh at the very back. He doesn’t mind the arrangement, but Tiki seems smug about it and he can’t help but see it as a loss on his part.

“Did you rent this car?” Innes asks Ephraim what’s been on his mind since they pulled up to the house. It’s a rather interesting van, what with the vibrant floral stickers littered on the outside along with the ‘live your dreams’ message.

“Nah, this is Lyon’s ride. He went through a bohemian phase when he was younger.”

“Couldn’t you have told him you _did_ rent it? He would have believed you.” Lyon sighs, reddening with embarrassment. “When I got over it, I couldn’t go through with getting rid of the thing. It’s useful on trips like these, but other than that, I try not to be seen in public with it.”

“Why don’t you take the decals off?” Innes asks, confused. That way, he could drive it around without having to be self-conscious about them.

“Because he’s secretly but not so secretly still a little bohemian.” Eirika answers for him. “All for peace and love and all that cutesy shit.”

“Um, _language_?” Lyon sends her a pointed look. Thankfully the younger girls are too enthralled in playing with a paper fortune teller to care. “And what’s wrong with peace and love? Peace and love are great!”

“Preach.” Ephraim shows his solidarity with a fist pump. “Ain’t nothing wrong with love and happiness, Eirika.”

“What even is that?”

“What we vowed to give each other at the altar?” Lyon huffs out a laugh. “Pretty important promise.”

“Oh yeah. We did do that.” Eirika nods with a nostalgic smile. “You were so cute. All teary-eyed and bawling like a baby. Innes, he is _such_ a crybaby. I’ll show you the video of our first dance one day. He couldn’t see well because his eyes were swollen. Next thing I know, he’s tripped and ripped the bottom half of my dress in two. Only made him cry harder. Ah man, I wish I still had it on my phone.”

“He is quite emotional, isn’t he?” Innes says. “One night, we both stayed up late online doing who knows what. Eventually, we realized the sun was rising. He _refused_ to stop sobbing about how beautiful it was into his mic. I was at a loss of what to do.”

“You two are horrible.” Lyon covers his face, mortified. “Stop shaming me. I can cry whenever I want and however much I want.”

“I agree!” Tana chimes in. “So what if he cries a lot? That just means he’s in touch with his feelings!”

“Tana!” Lyon’s face brightens, ecstatic with her defense of his tendencies. “Thank you!”

“You’re only saying that because you cry as much as he does.” Innes offers as a response. “You cried this morning when Tiki offered to pour your cereal.”

“Shut up!” Tana glowers at him. “I had sandman dust in my eye! It doesn’t count!”

“I wonder what it feels like to cry that much.” Ephraim ponders. “When was the last time I did?”

“When we came out of the womb probably.” Eirika offers as a response. “Bet when the doctor slapped your butt, you told him to fuck off.”

“ _Language._ ” Lyon insists yet again. “Also, doctors don’t do that anymore. It’s dangerous, incredibly abusive and unprofessional.”

“Sorry Lyon. Honey. _Dear_.” She flutters her eyelashes. “You’re right. When the doctor slapped his _ass_ , he told him to _fuck_ _off_.”

“That’s not—Eirika, that’s not better…?”

“Hey Tana? Has Innes ever cried?” Ephraim deigns it appropriate to ask his sister. “Asking for a friend.”

“Oh, plenty. Not often, but when he’s really frustrated, angry or overwhelmed, he definitely does.”

“Lies.” Innes scowls. “Utter lies.”

“You cried at my flute recital.”

“That was the sprinkler system. It was outdoors.”

“ _Righhhht_.” Tana scavengers her memories for other occasions. “Oh! When Tiki was born! _Duh_! When you got to carry her for the first time and she grabbed your finger— _D’aww_ , it was adorable!” She squees at the memory. “You were so mad about me recording you!”

“I doubt anyone would be unable to cry about that.” It was a special moment for him, especially after watching his mother carry his youngest sibling for all nine months. All the struggles with attempting to put together decent meals to satisfy her bizarre cravings were something Innes doubted he would ever forget, along with the sight of a new-born Tiki gazing up at him, a mixture of confusion and curiosity in her eyes as she sized him up. It was priceless.

Even after she promptly threw up all over herself and him.

Wonderful times.

“I wish I would have been there when Myrrh was born.” Ephraim laments sadly. “Biggest regret of my life.”

In an attempt to salvage the light mood, Innes nudges his shoulder.

“Perhaps you couldn’t have been there at that point in time, but the future lies ahead of you. There are endless possibilities. Chin up. You’ll be accompanying her through everything else.”

“Like her first parking ticket.” Eirika suggests. “Big milestone right there.”

“Or graduating from college.” Lyon tacks on. “That’ll be important too.”

“Helping her apply for her first job?” Tana joins in. “That’s a hip and cool thing for a dad to do.”

“The day she finally tells you she can’t stand that disgusting rug you have hanging on your living room wall—In all seriousness Ephraim, can you please get rid of that?” Innes asks genuinely, glad to be reminded of it. He’d been meaning to bring it up at some point. “It’s half of the reason I hesitate to visit.”

“Absolutely _not_.” Ephraim remains firm in his refusal. “What’s not to love about tiger patterns?”

“It clashes with _everything_.” Which was saying something because _everything clashed with everything_ in that apartment. “At least purchase one that is less garish.”

“I guess you won’t be visiting anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because _no_. A thousand times, _no_.”

“ _Fine_. See if I care.”

“What? You’re just going to accept that?”

“Why not? I do not enjoy subjecting myself to horrible aesthetics.”

“Oh yeah, Mr. ‘ _I’m going for bare and un-lived in. It’s an art deco thing_ ’. Could your place _be_ any colder? There’s no life! I don’t even think Frelia likes it!”

“Don’t drag her into this!”

“I am and I will!”

“Do _not_ cause a scene, Ephraim!”

“No need! You’re already doing a fine job of it!”

“Oh _no_ , mom and dad are fighting. _”_ Eirika’s head slumps against the window. “I’m so scared. Hold me, Lyon.”

“I’m crying too hard to even try. I’m very sad about this.”

“Oh my gosh!” Tiki exclaims in the midst of their bickering. “Rem-Rem!”

“Don’t worry, Tiki!” Ephraim yells back at her. "We’re just talking loudly, not fighting!”

“What?” Her face scrunches up in confusion before she continues her thought. “I took Myrrh’s fortune and it turns out she’s getting married! Isn’t that nice?”

“I don’t really want to get married, though.” Myrrh frowns. “Maybe it’s broken.”

“Probably.” Tiki smiles. “It’s just a dumb paper thingy. You can do whatever you want when you’re older. Right, Tana?”

“Heck yeah!” Tana grins. “You don’t want to get married, you don’t have to.”

“Really?” Myrrh breathes a sigh of relief, the confirmation setting her at ease. “That’s good.”

“Are you all right?” Innes questions, worry having struck him at Ephraim’s abrupt silence after Tiki’s announcement. “Are you—Oh my—“ He blinks a few times, complete disbelief overtaking him. “Are you _crying?_ ”

“No, I’m not.” Ephraim sniffles, eyes glistening. “It’s like she said. That thing’s _broken_.”

 

* * *

 

It’s a nice beach house.

In fact, it’s more than that. It’s _lovely._ He may have mocked Ephraim over his choice of words when he first brought it up, but actually seeing it in person was awe-inspiring.

“Pretty great, huh?” Ephraim smirks when he catches Innes distracted while they unload all of the luggage. “Told you it was nice.”

“I never suggested I thought otherwise, only that it sounded ridiculous coming from you.”

“Can’t you give me one thing?”

“ _Absolutely not_.” Innes sticks his nose in the air. “Curiously enough, you said exactly that in response to my objections to your rug.”

“Using that against me?”

“Stings, doesn’t it?”

Naturally, the interior is what one would expect of a vacation villa. Breezy and open, plenty of windows allowing for maximum sunlight exposure.

“Do you have this maintained whenever you aren’t here?” Innes asks Ephraim, rolling his eyes at the way everyone else scrambles to claim their room. He didn’t particularly care where he slept, as long as there were clean bedsheets and a mattress.

“We sure do. Don’t worry about any dust bunnies because the place should be spotless.”

“Good.” He makes no effort to move from where he’s standing, watching Eirika bang at the door Tiki was currently locked behind, cackling maniacally. Lyon, ever the gentleman, was helping Tana and Myrrh carry their things into their respective rooms. “Shouldn’t you…?”

“I’m fine with whatever.” Ephraim shrugs. “Let them battle it out. What about you?”

“I have no preferences.” Innes rubs at his eyes, holding back a yawn. If he were being honest, what he really wanted to do was _sleep_ rather than join in on any beach activities. “I’ll take what’s left.”

“About that…” Ephraim discreetly motions for him to follow. Curious, Innes does, avoiding a kneeling Eirika, having resorted to begging his youngest sister to open negotiations for the room she so desperately wanted.He’s lead down the hallway, stopping in front of an unassuming door. In fact, the head jamb stops short a few feet lower than what should be reasonable for the average person.

“Surprise. This is—This is your room.”

“ _This?_ ”

“A little embarrassing to admit but, uh, this was an addition.” Ephraim explains when he notices Innes’s befuddled expression. “Me and my old man thought we were amazing DIY guys and assumed we could build another guest bed on our own.”

“This was the result?”

“Kinda? We got this far and called it quits. Hired a contractor for the actual room and kept the door as a funny reminder.” He laughs, stopping suddenly. “I’m way better at stuff like this now.” He adds as almost an afterthought, as if Innes would take offense to him not being handy with construction, which was clearly something out of his field of understanding. “Like, I do stuff around the house all the time.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Really. Call me if you ever need anything. I can do deal with whatever comes up…probably.”

“I’ll keep it in mind?” Innes shakes his head, amused by his insistence on touting his supposed skills. “Care to show me inside?”

“Oh, sure. Watch your head.” Ephraim opens the door, ducking before entering. Innes does the same, foreseeing future incidents involved with the awkward placing, already forcing himself to remember to pay attention whenever he passed through the area.

Once inside, he takes in the rather normal looking room. Pristine white walls and bedsheets are what first catch his attention, along with the rest of the furniture. It’s quaint and what one would expect in a decently starred hotel.

“The door aside, this is lovely.” He says. “Is the wifi free?”

“What kinda currency were you planning on providing for it?”

“The occasional boost to your ego,” Innes comments off-handedly, setting his duffel bag beside the bed. “I hear the exchange rate is rather high.”

“You're speaking my language.” Ephraim snickers, unlocking the sliding glass doors. “Everything else is okay, but I think this is what you’ll like the most.”

Innes walks over, stepping onto the balcony just beyond, joining the other.

He instantly agrees.

“This is…”

“Amazing, huh?”

The view of the ocean is spectacular. The deep blue waves crash along the shoreline, creating a mist Innes can feel even from their vantage point. The fresh ocean breeze accents it all, a cooling caress across his cheeks, the scent of sea salt bringing back pleasant memories of traveling to sea with his family, splashing around the water and collecting sea shells with Tana. His mother packing lunch and his father insisting on slathering sunblock on them every three or four minutes.

It’s familiar. Innes has always loved the sea. Found it’s endless and immense nature mysterious in its poetic-ness. Whether it was Archanea’s ruthless and frosted over currents or Magvel’s occasional riptides, the ocean was always a place of solace for him. This time around would be missing Tiki’s beloved snow cones, but maybe they could find something similar.

“I always stay here.” Ephraim says quietly. “Eirika doesn’t really like how the wind knocks against the glass and makes noise and my Dads are always bumping their heads ‘cause they forget about the dumb door. I don’t care about any of that so…I always call this one. The view is really all I need.”

“…Yes.” Innes replies before frowning. “If you like it, feel free to take it. I have no qualms about staying elsewhere.”

“I think you need it more.” Ephraim only smiles, the bright sunlight reflecting off his hair and eyes in such a way that nearly has Innes reaching out to tug him closer, if only to get a better look. “Honestly, I was planning on this since I thought about inviting you.”

“What do you mean?”

Ephraim holds up a hand, a sign for him to stay put as he briskly steps out of the room. He returns after a few minutes, carrying with him quite a few different items, setting them onto a nearby table.

“I know you like hiding it, but I can tell you’re about to drop.” Ephraim props an umbrella up, opening it to shade the deck chair beneath. Next, he opens a cooler, showcasing a variety of different chilled drinks lodged in ice. “I figured, if you wanted, you could just take some time off here and unwind.” He nervously scratches his cheek. “I, uh, I packed a few snacks, too. Y’know, to tide you over until lunch or dinner or whenever you’re hungry or we get back. How about it?”

Innes is struck into silence, the ability to offer a response suddenly taxing.

“I mean—“ Ephraim stammers, struggling to find the proper words to phrase what he wants to say. “I’m not trying to get you to not come with us or anything. I just thought you’re—uh—you’re probably tired and running around on the beach is the last thing you want to do. If you don’t want to, then forget this and come with us but—yeah. It’s your call.”

“I—What about—“

“I can look after everyone.” Ephraim seemingly knows what he’s going to ask before he can ask it. “I’ll keep an eye on Tiki and Tana, make sure they don’t get into any trouble. It’s just—I don’t think you’ll get a lot of shut eye and everyone’ll probably say you’re bringing the mood down or being boring, which you totally do a lot but this time it’s justifiable.”

“ _Thank you for your honesty._ ”

“I’m being serious, though.” Ephraim says as seriously as he can manage. “I can handle everything else while you get some rest. Stop worrying about everyone and— _and chill the hell out.”_

Innes’s lips press into a thin line. It was thoughtful, everything Ephraim was proposing to him. More than generous. More than Innes likely deserved.

Had he really come across as that pathetically weak? Enough that Ephraim noticed and thought out countermeasures lest Innes ruin everyone’s jovial mood?

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“You’re thinking I did this because I thought you’d ruin everything.”

“ _No._ ” How ridiculous. Was Innes really that predictable? “ _You’re wrong._ I was thinking—“ He scrambles to think of something he wouldn’t normally say. “—That I was very grateful and flattered by your kindness and wondering how exactly I could repay you for all of this.”

“No, you weren’t.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“ _Innes_.” Ephraim sighs heavily, in disbelief that they even needed to have this conversation. “I did this because I was worried. _About you_. Not because of any other reasons you can come up with.”

“Hmph.”

“Don’t you believe me?” Ephraim goes as far as to take Innes’s hands in his, his gaze pleading. “Believe _in_ me?”

“Stop bringing that up whenever it’s convenient.” Heat rushes to Innes’s face. Why had he ever thought saying something like that was all right? “It’s embarrassing.”

“Whatever it takes to get you to stop being negative.”

“I’m not being negative. It’s just…surprising. And very generous of you.” And it filled him with the slightest bit of satisfaction, to know he was being thought of. That his feelings were being taken into consideration. He really was in far too deep, wasn’t he? “…Thank you. I believe I will take you up on your offer.”

Instantly, Ephraim’s expression brightens, relieved and delighted at the same time.

“Great!” He grins. Innes tilts his head forward slightly, the shades resting atop his hair sliding forward and onto his face. He doubted he would ever get used to the pure sunshine Ephraim radiated whenever he was happy with how things were going. “If you need anything, give me a call. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“All right.”

Ephraim squeezes his hands one final time before letting go.

“We’ll be back by sundown. Maybe. I don’t know.” He walks backwards towards the door. “Enjoy your day.”

“Yes, I’ll—“ Innes pauses, hesitating, before allowing his lips to graciously curve upward. “Thank you. _Again_.”

Ephraim nearly trips over his feet, barely remembering to stop before the back of his head can smash into the top door jamb.

“You’re welcome.” He coughs, clearing his throat. “Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

When Ephraim makes no other effort to actually leave, continuing to stare at him as if he has something else he wants to say, Innes raises an eyebrow.

“What is it?”

“…It’s nothing.” He waves, forcing a neutral face. “We’ll be back.” Finally, he leaves.

“Hm.” Deciding that whatever Ephraim could have possibly wanted to say to him wasn’t worth the effort of thinking too much about, Innes glances around the set up patio area. He all but collapses onto the lounge chair, letting out a deep breath he hadn’t known he was holding. All of the strain in his neck and back dissipates ever so slowly, conforming to the curve of the chair. His eyelids droop, his exhaustion hitting full force.

He really needed this. Just some time to...to sleep and keep to himself and not worry about anything besides the beautiful sea and how many sheep he could count in his dreams.

“I should thank him.” Innes mumbles to himself, finding a comfortable position and sighing. “I should...I should _kiss_ him.” He laughs at his absurd words, delirious with the need for sleep.

Maybe not so delirious, but it wasn't as if Ephraim would know.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll have some summer time fun next time! I promise! For now, let's give our precious Nessy time to sleep [(－_－)] zzZ
> 
> I'm also happy to announce this is the final stretch, everyone! We're very close to the finale!  
> I would say I'm prepared except I'm really not lol
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	19. Summer's Arrival (Part Two)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day on the beach.

“Need some more ice? Here, I gotcha covered.”

“This umbrella is absolute garbage. Hold up, I’ll fix it.”

“I packed some sandwiches if you get hungry. Try some!”

“Borrow my noise cancelling headphones. Won’t hear a thing with these things…Actually, that’s a terrible idea. Never mind.”

“You’re already sunburnt? Wait a minute. I’m gonna go beat the sun’s ass.”

 

It’s too much.

Too, _too_ much.

 

“What if I just—“

“ _Ephraim._ ” Innes grits out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ _Stop_.”

“I’ll fix it. Give me a—“

“The umbrella is _fine_. My chair is _fine_. This _canopy_ is _fine._ ” He had no idea why Ephraim thought providing him with both a beach umbrella _and_  a beach canopy was even necessary, but here he was, sharing them with Eirika and Lyon, the former sleeping while the latter read a book. “My towel is _fine_. The air is _fine_. _I_ am _fine_.”

“Sure as heck are.” Is the cheeky response he gets. “And I bet you’re physically okay, too. But what about your skin?“ Ephraim hold up the container of sunscreen. “I can—“

“If I need more, I can get it myself.” Innes rolls his eyes at the dejected way Ephraim lets it fall to the ground, the bottle burrowing into the sand. “Go play with the children.”

“All right. If you—“

“—need anything, let you know. Yes, yes. _Now leave._ ”

It’s a stare down for the ages. Fortunately, Innes happens to be wearing dark tinted sunglasses. Ephraim loses without a single chance of winning, running off to join Myrrh, Tana, and Tiki in the water. Not without fluffing the pillow Innes _didn’t ask for_ , but what else can be expected?

“Unbelievable.” Innes mutters, blowing air into his face with the handheld fan provided to him, courtesy of who else but _Ephraim_. He knew the man could be incredibly accommodative when he wanted to be, but this was getting ridiculous.

“He doesn’t seem the type to be this worried about anyone, does he?”

“Not at all. I used to question whether he was capable of taking care of himself.”

Lyon laughs at his reply, finding amusement in the way his lips twist with annoyance.

“Full of surprises. That’s Ephraim for you.” He says with a fond smile. “When we were younger, he was always fretting over Eirika. It always made her angry.”

“To be expected.” He chances a glance over at the owner of Renais, currently drooling onto her towel, deep in sleep. If Innes was tired, she had to be doubly so. “I feel she’d sooner drop kick him than allow her brother to worry for her.”

“She’s done it before.” Lyon informs him. “Suplexed him, too. It was gruesome.”

“If he’s like this, I do not blame her.” Innes wasn’t particularly angered by Ephraim’s behavior. He understood is was all done in good faith, as the man had displayed an endless supply of generosity and understanding when he easily could have left Innes to his own devices and ran off to enjoy himself. It was likely a matter of pride, and refusing to feel patronized, even though Ephraim hadn’t intended on doing anything of the sort.

“He means well.” Lyon further supports his assessment. “He cares about you. Don’t take it as an insult. It’s just his way of being thoughtful.”

“I understand.” Innes sighs, his attention falling on the subject of their conversation. He’s tossing a beach ball around with the rest of the girls, responding to what’s being said to him. It must be humorous, because he’s laughing freely. He hadn’t thought much on it before, but this break was likely a welcome relief for Ephraim, too. His work days were consistently hectic in comparison to Innes. Despite that, he never failed to appear outside of Rausten, his typical toothy smile never absent. Treated Innes with more patience than any one person should reasonably have. “I simply don’t believe it’s necessary.”

“That’s what makes it special. He’s doing it for you knowing you don’t need it.”

“How saccharine.”

“That’s what you become when you care about someone.” Lyon leans over to brush Eirika’s fringe out of her face. Her face scrunches up but otherwise she continues to slumber. “Before you know it, you’re writing poetry and crying over everything they do for you.”

“Is that based on your own experience?”

“Maybe. Can’t say I can picture you or Ephraim crying over stuff like that, but you never know.”

“If he wrote me a poem, I’d be more inclined to take him to the hospital.” Innes deadpans, his response drawing laughter. “In any case, I appreciate your insight.”

“No problem. I have no idea what I’m doing most of the time, but being with Eirika makes that a little less scary.” Lyon grins. “You’re way more put together than me, so I bet you’ll be fine with whatever comes your way.”

“I doubt it, but thank you for the encouragement.”

“Hey, we’ll be…in-laws? Brothers in arms? We’ve got to stick together.”

“In-laws?” Innes bristles. “When did I say anything about…what you’re implying?”

“Weren’t we just having a conversation about it?” The teasing expression Lyon levels him is equal parts annoying as it is relieving. He’s glad the other isn’t the type to be too brutal with his observations, given that Innes isn’t entirely comfortable talking about them.

“What’re you two talking about?”

Innes nearly jumps out of his skin at the abrupt arrival of the last person he wants listening in on such a discussion. Myrrh tilts her head, curious about the undoubtably ridiculous expression on his face.

“Boring adult stuff.” Lyon answers for them. “Did you need something?”

“Water.”

Innes reaches into the cooler and hands her a bottle. She thanks him, drinking from it, eyeing him with interest.

“Are you going to come play in the water with us?” Myrrh asks. “I’d like it if you did.”

“Perhaps later.” Innes responds. “I’m partial to sitting by the sand for now.”

“Oh.” She hums. “If you’re going to stay in the sand anyway, why don’t we build a sandcastle? I’ve always wanted to try it.”

“Go ahead, Nessy.” Lyon suggests. “Have some fun. I’ll keep watch on the fortress while you’re gone.”

“It’s cool, isn’t it?” Myrrh exclaims, before cowering into herself. “…Do you…like it?” She asks shyly, digging her toe into the sand. “I told Dad you might like the tent thingy since you said you get sunburnt easily. That’s why you’re wearing that special shirt, right?”

“…Correct. This was very thoughtful of you.” Well, that was one mystery solved. He couldn’t feel too bad about being coddled if Myrrh played a part in planning this for him. “While the umbrella was more than enough, I greatly appreciate this addition.”

“You’re welcome!” She smiles sweetly. “So…do you wanna help me make a pretty castle?”

What else can Innes say?

“…Of course.” He rises from his seat. “Let us see what we can do.”

 

* * *

 

“Do you think we should add another level?”

“It would only be wise.” Innes takes the smaller pail from Myrrh’s collection of tools, filling it with sand. He smooths away the excess, carefully bringing it to the top of their creation.

“Wait!” Myrrh squeaks, startling him. Slowly, she strengthens the very bottom level, fortifying a few cracks. “There. Okay, continue.”

Innes quickly flips the bucket at the center, pulling it off to reveal the perfect place for a small flag, one Myrrh dutifully sticks into the sand. They both sit back, admiring their handy work.

Incredibly symmetrical, as per the younger girl’s insistence, shells imbedded on every wall. There’s a moat surrounding the entire structure, one of his suggestions as a measure of security against any invaders. They also scavenged around the beach to find a piece of stray drift wood to serve as their drawbridge, using two loose threads from a towel as a mechanism for lowering and closing it.

All in all, probably the greatest sandcastle Innes has ever played a part in creating.

“Picture perfect.” Innes says with a satisfied smirk. “What would you say?”

“I agree.” Myrrh smiles, happy with the outcome. “We did a very nice job. It’s came out exactly like I wanted.”

“I doubt it would have turned out any other way.” Innes glances at her. “You’ve proven yourself to be rather austere when it comes to establishing your vision.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“If there is anything you wish to accomplish, that will be your most valuable asset.” Honestly, it surprised him that Myrrh didn’t simply toss everything to the side and find something else to do at the first sign of trouble. Innes hadn’t been the most patient of children and, from what he could remember, all of his and Tana’s attempts at sandcastle creating usually ended in trampling their work before running off to splash in the water. “Do you enjoy these sorts of activities?”

“Do you mean building stuff?” At his nod, Myrrh hums thoughtfully. “I guess I do. I was telling Dad the other day that I wanted to build a nice house one day. He said I could do it if I wanted to.”

“I agree.”

“I mean…” She hesitates over her next words. “I like where we live now, but I’d like it if…if we had a nice yard. O-Or a nice garden and trees. Like Tiki’s house.”

“I suppose that is something most children desire.” Innes never wanted for space when he was a child. Their home in Archanea, while not anything grandiose and certainly not large, was surrounded by the woodlands where both he and Tana ran around with wild abandon. Since Ephraim’s home was located in the middle of the hustle and bustle of the city, Myrrh likely found it difficult to find a place that wasn’t a park to enjoy herself whenever she felt like it. “Have you told your father?”

“Yes.”

“And what did he say?”

“That he was already looking for a great place.”

“His work ethic is admirable.” Then again, this was about his _daughter._ Ephraim would likely launch himself into space if Myrrh so much as implied she wanted a star. “I’m sure you’ll find a lovely home.”

“And you can visit whenever you want.” She adds softly. “Maybe you can help us plant flowers, too. Like your Dad does.”

“That’s quite the task.” Innes replies. “I can consider it.”

“Would a glass of organic fruit punch tempt you?”

“Bribing me?”

“It’s a polite offering.” Myrrh responds cheekily. “I’m making a deal.”

“Did your father teach you how to do that?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Is all Innes says, amused by her tactics. If he did eventually agree, it wouldn’t be for the sake of any chilled beverage proffered to him. “Think about which types you would like. I would suggest perennials.”

“I’ll look up what that means when we get home.”

“They’re—“

“Wow, that’s a nice sandcastle.”

They both look up at the sudden voice, finding Ephraim hovering over them, completely soaked from his time in the water. Innes’s eyes most _certainly_ do _not_ stray to the toned muscles of his arms, or the droplets of water sliding down his pectorals or even the trails of ink that cascade over his skin. A mystery he had long since pondered solved, but one that left Innes at even more of a loss on how to deal with.

Stupid Ephraim. Making his life complicated by the simple act of existing.

“Do you like it?” Myrrh asks, hopeful for a kind word from her father. “We put all of our effort into it.”

“I love it!” Ephraim gushes with a grin, ruffling his daughter’s hair. “Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Are you done?”

“Yup!” Myrrh gets up, dusting the sand off her hands and legs. “I think I’ll go play in the water again.”

“Sounds good. Don’t go too deep, though!” He yells as she runs off. “Stay with Tiki and Tana!”

“Okie-dokie!” She jumps into the waves, surprising a delighted Tiki into splashing waterat her. Tana immediately sets her swim ring around Myrrh, both girls bobbing about in the current happily while she watches.

“Are you gonna come, too?” Ephraim asks.

“I believe so.” Innes rises from his place on the sand. “It’s about time I actually enjoy the ocean rather than just sit around admiring it.”

“Yeah…” Ephraim gets a far-off dazed look in his eyes. Innes sighs.

“Would you like to join me?” He asks. “Unless you’re tuckered out already?”

“No way!” That immediately snaps the other out of whatever trance he’s about to fall into. “I was thinking _you_ were too tired to come with me. ‘Cause maybe you wouldn’t be able keep up.”

“Excuse me?”

“I was swimming along the entire shoreline.” Ephraim points all the way down the coast. “Felt nice. Got my blood pumping and everything.”

“And you do not think I am capable of such a feat?”

“Well…”

“What _nerve_!” Innes scowls, utterly floored by the foolish insinuation. How dare this moron imply he wasn’t physically capable of swimming a mile down shore? “How would you even come to such a conclusion? I do not recall you ever witnessing my athleticism in action!”

“That’s why I’m skeptical.”

“What you are, is _wrong._ ”

“ _Innes_ ,” Ephraim has the gall to level him a flat stare. “C’mon. You’re a little…” He grips Innes’s forearm, his other hand feeling at his biceps. If Innes weren’t as irritated as he felt at the moment, the flutter in his heart _could_ be misconstrued as his affections getting the better of him, rather than his temper and the summer heat affecting his respiratory functions. “…Not as scrawny as I was expecting, actually. Your clothes hide a lot, don’t they?”

“ _Naturally._ ” Innes huffs out, squirming when Ephraim prods at a particularly ticklish spot on his abdomen. “ _Stop that_.”

“ _Aww_ , you’re ticklish. That’s adorable.”

“ _Shut up._ ” Innes slaps his hands away, embarrassed by his reaction.

“Ey, yo, young men over there. Stop fucking flirting in front of the sun.” Eirika complains, awake now apparently. “If you wanna make out, do it out of sight. There are children out here.”

“Two guys can feel each other’s bodies out without it being romantic.” Lyon scolds. “It’s called platonic manhandling. Or flirting. Depends.”

“I can caress his muscles wherever the hell I want.” Ephraim declares, slinging an arm over Innes’s shoulders and pulling him close. “It’s called a healthy show of affection. And we’ll make out in front of you if we damn well please. We’re won’t, though. PDA is disgusting _._ ” He turns, pulling Innes along. “Bye. Have fun being boring.”

“Have fun _not_ making out.” Eirika sneers. “Or doing anything remotely romantic in nature.”

“Is she angry?” Innes asks when they’re out of earshot. “She sounded angry.”

“Nah, she’s just teasing.” Ephraim translates for him. “Means she’s in a really good mood.”

“Ah.”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, I could just as well keep up with anyone, especially _you_.” Innes says once he’s reminded of what they were discussing before. “I’m proficient at swimming.”

“I don’t know. Sure you won’t give in half way?” Ephraim is clearly egging him on, finding amusement in riling up his competitive nature. “I wouldn’t make fun of you too much for it.”

“You wouldn’t at all, because that is _not_ something I would do.”

“Wanna bet on it?”

“Get in the water.” Innes breaks away from Ephraim’s casual grip on him. “We’re doing this right now.”

“ _Hell yeah._ ”

“Be prepared to lose.”

“Wait, what do I get if I win?”

“What do you mean?”

“If it’s a bet, I want to win something.” Ephraim says, folding his arms against his chest as he thinks. “How about I take you out someplace?”

“How is that a prize?” Innes cocks his head to the side, confused. “It sounds like more of a chore than anything else.”

“Can’t think of why I’d want to?”

“An urge to waste spare time, I imagine.” Innes can’t be expected to understand why Ephraim does the things he does. “And myself? Do I not get anything from this?”

“Well, what do you want?”

What did he want? Innes wracks his brain for an answer before realizing he could just do the obvious.

“The same. I will take _you_ out.” Innes finally says with a smirk. “How is that?”

“You wanna take _me_ out?” Ephraim repeats incredulously. “Why?”

“Would you rather I not?” Maybe he was getting a bit ahead of himself? “If you don’t then—“

“No way!” Ephraim quickly denies. “Sounds good. I win, I take you someplace nice. You win—“ Ephraim shakes his head in disbelief. “ _You_ take _me_ out. Was expecting something a little more sadistic, honestly.”

“Would you rather risk harm to your wardrobe?”

“Nope. A nice date it is.”

“I thought so.” Innes grabs the hem of his rash guard, pulling it over his head. “ _There._ ” He flings it to the ground. “This won’t be interfering with the results.” He faces Ephraim. “Ready?”

“Uhh…”

“Good. Come on.” Innes heads in, wading through the current. “We continue until one of us falters.”

“What’s up with those scars?” Ephraim asks incredulously, joining him at the makeshift starting line. “Did you get into a fight with a _bear_?”

“If you win, perhaps I can consider telling you.” He says over his shoulder. “Sadly, that isn’t going to happen.”

 

* * *

 

It happens.

“ _Dammit!_ ” Innes slams his fists against the ground, catching his breath. “ _Why does it always end this way?_ ”

They swam back and forth a few laps, neither giving an inch. It wasn’t until Innes’s entire body burned with agony that he’d decided _not_ to risk drowning over a petty matter of pride and dragged himself back onto land, albeit reluctantly.

Ephraim is on his back beside him, his victorious laugh thwarted by the need for more oxygen after their exhausting swim. Regret hits Innes like a truck. If he kept at it just a bit longer, maybe the other would have given in before him.

“B-Because I’m—“ Ephraim coughs violently, stretching his arms out with a grimace. “T-Too good to lose.”

“Ridiculous.” Innes collapses onto his stomach, weakly picking up handfuls of sand, watching the grains fall from between his fingertips. “Why do I even bother?”

“Not ridiculous.” Ephraim turns on his side to face him. “Just Innes.”

“That is the most idiotic thing that’s come out of your mouth to date.”

“I say a lot of stupid things when I’m with you.”

“Does my presence cause your brain cells to instantaneously implode?”

“ _Yes._ ” Ephraim responds breathlessly. “ _All the time._ ”

“…Stupid.” Innes snorts, sitting up. He sighs at all of the sand caking his body, regretting throwing himself down so hastily. “Read a book once in a while.”

“Only if it has pretty pictures.” Ephraim sits up as well. “So, uh, are you gonna tell me about what happened?” He gestures towards the faded white streaks scattered all over Innes’s torso.

“It’s not a very interesting story, unfortunately.”

“Hey, if it’s about you, I’m interested.”

“Hmph.” Innes lightly touches the scars. “The area where I lived when I was a child was mostly surrounded by forest and jagged, mountainous terrain. Tana and I often explored as a means of play.”

“I already hate where this is going.”

“You wanted to know, didn’t you?” He rolls his eyes. “On this occasion, I was on my own. I often went by myself, which was why I didn’t think much about not taking anyone with me.”

“How old were you?”

“About thirteen or fourteen, I believe.” Innes replies. “As I was walking through a particularly wooded area, I heard a terrible cry. I followed the source and happened upon a bear cub. It was caught in a trap.”

“Sounds rough.”

“The conservation laws within the area were rather strict. The trap itself was irresponsibly placed.” Innes pauses. “What I should have done was left to find someone qualified to deal with the issue. I would have, but the way they were crying out in pain was—“ He shudders. It was a gut-wrenching call for help. Even after the incident, it plagued his nightmares. “Anyway, I released it myself.”

“You knew how to do that?” Ephraim asks, surprised.

“My grandfather was and still is incredibly against the hunting and consumption of wildlife and disturbing their habitat. He often came across animals that were caught in traps left behind by hunters. When I happened to be with him, he taught me a great deal about how to disarm them.”

“Wow.”

“Yes.” Innes nods. “I freed it, but it was injured. I was thinking through what to do next when the mother found us.” Innes frowns. “My memory from that point is unreliable. Take this with a grain of salt, but I believe she rushed at me to protect her cub. I turned, but there was nowhere to go except down the edge of a cliff.”

“ _You fell down?_ ”

“She slashed at my back,” Innes twists his body so that Ephraim can get a better look at the claw marks on his back, scar tissue having long healed over the wounds. “And _then_ I fell.”

“I was right. You actually got into a fight with a _bear._ What the _fuck._ ”

“The rest is vague.” Innes had been told the accounts of the day by multiple people, including his family and authorities, but he couldn’t recall a single thing. “Supposedly, I fell to the very bottom. It was only by chance that a nearby neighbor found me unconscious shortly after.”

“I should send them a fruit basket.” Ephraim says, bewildered by the tale. “You think it’s expensive to send fruits to Archanea?”

“I’m sure it’s against environmental protection policies.” Innes replies. “I only remember waking up in the hospital to my uncle and his son arguing about what music was appropriate to play while I rested.” Bantu, as always, was correct in choosing the calming sounds of the ocean. Xane, being the absolute oddball he was, was _very_ _wrong_ in assuming Innes would want death metal of all things _._ “When my parents finally arrived, they would not stop crying.”

“And Tana?”

“She called me an idiot when she came back from school.” She was sobbing while she said it though, her hug a comforting sort of vice grip. “I was out for two weeks.”

“Did you break everything?” Ephraim’s fingers ghost over the rough skin trailing across his back. “I can’t believe you fell off a cliff _._ ”

“My injuries consisted of wounds and bruises. I sprained my wrists and ankles but for the most part, it was a rather miraculous fall.” Innes finishes his story with a sarcastic flourish of the hands. “And that’s how I got these scars.”

“Can you not do anything like that ever again?” Ephraim sighs, resting his forehead on Innes’s shoulder blades. “Nearly getting mauled by a bear and falling off a cliff…You said it wasn’t an interesting story!”

“I don’t think it is.”

“You’ve got some weird concept of interesting.” There’s a nudge at his shoulder as Ephraim chuckles. “Not that I’m saying you can use it as an ice breaker at parties. Probably a bit too much for people you don’t know very well.”

“We should count it a blessing I know you well enough to confide that particularly traumatizing piece of information, then.”

“Happy to hear that.”

There’s a lull in conversation until Ephraim speaks again.

“Do you hide them?”

“…I try.” Innes wasn’t ashamed of how he looked, but he could do without the staring that inevitably followed. His discomfort was only natural, as was the curiosity of anyone who caught sight of his decidedly gruesome cicatrix. Thankfully, the only time he ever really had to worry about the scars being seen was at the beach or pool, and that was only during the summer. The rest of the year his usual wardrobe naturally hid everything. “I’m not fond of having to answer questions about what happened when I’m trying to relax.”

“If it makes you feel better, I think they’re pretty badass.” Ephraim offers as consolation. “I have tats but you have literal battle scars. That’s amazing.”

“What a pair we make.”

“A good one.”

“A _great_ one.” Innes scoffs. “Have some pride.”

“Don’t think you could find anyone prouder than me to be your partner.” Ephraim stands up, holding his hand out. “What do you say?”

“I’d say ask me again when I’m in a better mood.” He ignores the proffered hand, rising on his own. “Lest I give an answer that disappoints.”

“Don’t be like that.”

“Best to make you work for it.” Innes walks on ahead, back towards the house. “I think I’ve had enough for today.”

“Where are you going?”

“To take a shower.” And to check on the burns he could feel on his back and arms. Perhaps carelessly stripping himself of the rash guard meant to protect against burns and the gazes of others wasn’t the greatest idea, even if he really _did_ want to win.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonderful summer days continue next chapter! And maybe even the moment we've all been waiting for?
> 
> I'm so excited!
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	20. Summer's Arrival (Final Part)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Innes and Ephraim meet in the middle.

“Are you done yet, Nessy?”

“No.”

“Everyone else is ready.”

“I’m not everyone else.”

“Why does it always take you forever to do your hair?”

“Why do I have to warn you against housing every locust you find?”

“That’s not fair.” Tiki pouts from the door, affronted by his response. Innes would feel bad, but his sister has spent the last hour dropping in on him and finding different ways to mock his hair care techniques. They were getting too brutal for his liking. “I’m trying to save them.”

“And I’m trying to save myself from looking like a complete wreck.” He runs his fingers through the parting he’s created. It’s not too drastic a change, but enough to make a statement. Trying to get that perfect mixture of calculated volume and uncaring preparation wasn’t easy, but he would make it work somehow. “Your opinion?”

“I think you look very handsome. You always look very handsome! Why does it matter?”

“It does not, but I am vain and in need of constant validation. You know this.”

“I know you’re a _pain_.” She laughs at her own joke. It’s charming, until Innes is reminded one day she will be a teenager and these sorts of comments will be uttered with typical teenage vehemence that will have him begging his parents for forgiveness regarding his own insolence. “A _big_ pain.”

“Don’t be rude, little sister. I’ll be done shortly.”

“You said that an _hour_ ago.”

“Don’t rush me, child.”

“Ugh, _fine_.” She stomps away, leaving him to finish his preparations. Not that there was much left for him to do, but he wasn’t going to step out without ensuring every aspect of his appearance wasn’t the pinnacle of put together. If only for his peace of mind, he would rather be sure he was representing himself well.

Innes doesn’t know how much time passes until there’s another knock on the door. Exhaling a heavy sigh, he addresses who he presumes to be his youngest sister back to hurry his pace. Why she couldn’t patiently wait for him to finish, he did not know. Not that he had much room to talk about patience. Maybe the two of them weren’t so different after all?

“If you make one more comment about how dumb I look ‘raking’ my hair, I’m going to tell Tana you actually enjoy it when she reads celebrity tabloids to you.”

“I already get enough of that from Lyon. Don’t need it from your sister too.”

Okay, _not_ Tiki.

“Did she send you as an envoy?” Innes snorts, his focus not straying from the accursed strand of hair refusing to be tamed. He flattens it back, letting out a triumphant ‘ _aha_!’ when it momentarily obeys his will. It springs upwards almost immediately. “A mistaken strategy on her part. I would be more inclined to consider her concerns over yours.”

“I never get tired of how feisty you can be for no reason.” Ephraim steps into the room, walking towards him. Through the dressing table’s mirror, Innes notes how the other has also made an effort to dress well, his eyes straying to the rolled up sleeves, observing the way his muscles strain against the fabric. “She actually left with the others.”

“Did she?”

“Yeah.” Ephraim stops next to him, leaning against the furniture. “I told them it’d be fine if they went on ahead of us. Is that okay with you?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Innes caps the bottle of hair product in his hand, setting it down. His cowlick wasn’t going anywhere, but that could be considered charming in its own right. Ephraim seems to enjoy it, reaching up to curl a finger around it. “You delight in monopolizing my time, do you not?”

“I’ll enjoy it as long as you actually want me around. I’m waiting for the day you finally tell me to back off.”

“You’ll be waiting quite the while.” Or rather, waiting for nothing at all. “Unless you do something to warrant that reaction, I do not plan on doing any such thing.” Innes spares him a passing glance. “Consider yourself fortunate.”

“I do every day.”

“Do you ever run out of these horrendously overused lines?”

“Lines? I’m speaking from the heart.” A faux hurt look crosses his face. “Because you _are my heart_ , _babe_.”

“You are making me physically ill.”

“Would you say you’re sick in love with me?”

“Maybe I would be if you stopped making these terribly cliche statements.”

“They’re as terrible as this raging passion I feel for you.”

“ _Ephraim_.”

A laugh. “I’m actually glad they don’t do anything for you. They’re a pain to come up with. Thanks for giving me the heads up.”

“I would hate to put you through the torture of weaving together poetic prose. Your limited vocabulary and affinity for picture books likely make it difficult for you.”

“Are you calling me a dumbass? Because I think that’s what you’re doing.”

“It seems I underestimated you. You have a basic grasp of inductive reasoning. Impressive.”

“Jerk.”

“A title I gladly accept over yours.” Innes smirks, finding only amusement in the glare directed at him. “Don’t think too badly of me.”

“You make that really, _really_ difficult, you _ass_.”

“Don’t you mean the opposite?”

“I meant what I said.” Ephraim sighs, hand cupping Innes’s cheek before it slides down, settling onto his waist, the other resting on his back. “Hard not to like the jerk with a heart of gold.”

“I could have sworn it was a heart of coal.”

“You might think that.” A touch to Innes’s chest has him tensing. “But I’m convinced it’s made of marshmallows.”

“Meaning?”

“You’re a big softy.” Their foreheads touch. “Even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“Where is your evidence?” Innes looks away. “Do not make claims if you cannot corroborate them.”

“I doubt anything I say will convince you so…” He gently prods the side of Innes’s face, getting their eyes to meet. “You’ll have to trust me on this one.”

“That is asking for much.”

“It’s your call.” He goes on to say something else but Innes isn’t listening. Their proximity isn’t allowing him to think straight and the dulcet tone of Ephraim’s voice has always had a way of mesmerizing him in the worst of ways. Innes must have quipped about a potential career on the radio at some point because, _heavens above_ , Ephraim could make the terms of his _insurance policy_ sound interesting. His voice was downright _sensuous_ at the most inopportune of times. Like right now _why_ was he standing so close and _why_ did he have to enunciate words with a honey-like sweetness and _why_ did Innes have to _enjoy it so much why_ —

“—What do you think?”

“I was not paying attention to a single word you said.”

“Lost in my eyes?”

“Your _voice._ ” He blurts out unintentionally, flushing at the surprised expression he’s met with.

“You like my voice?” Ephraim hums, a mischievous smirk settling upon his face. He leans in, murmuring his next words directly into Innes’s ear, coaxing a shudder out of him. “ _Thank you. I take requests exclusively from you. Say the word and I’ll read you the back of a cereal box.”_

“I hear enough of you as it is.” Innes scowls, making no effort to escape Ephraim’s grasp. It’s comfortable and he’s pathetic. “Are we leaving or not?”

“Excited for our date?”

“Date?”

“Promised I’d show you a good time.” Ephraim starts walking out of the room and towards the front door, leading him by the hand. “We’ll throw the bet win on the back burner for now. This is what I said you’d get before you agreed to come along. A nice night on the boardwalk.”

“And what of the others?”

“I doubt they’ll miss us too much.” Ephraim looks over his shoulder. “Myrrh made me promise to keep you entertained.”

“The both of you are very good at coordinating schemes that involve my well-being.”

“It’s kind of a priority for us now.” He lets go of Innes’s hand to open the door, motioning for him to exit first. “After you, my grumpy prince of pout.”

“Do you want me to insult you again?”

“My masochistic side is screaming yes.”

“My rational side is screaming for me to ditch you.”

“Don’t do that. You’ll make me sad.”

 

* * *

 

The walk to the boardwalk isn’t too much of a hassle.

It’s relatively close to the house, the stroll over relaxing in its peacefulness.

Ephraim takes the side of the road, his gentlemanly instincts kicking in as they want to do. It’s hardly necessary, given the roads are closed off to traffic, but Innes imagines this is simply part of the other’s customary need to be as obliging as possible. It must also be why Ephraim has returned to holding his hand, playing games with his fingers, lacing and unlacing them in a peculiar manner. It’s worth questioning, but when Innes looks up to address it, Ephraim is gazing out at the ocean, the water glistening and reflecting a late afternoon’s sunshine. He’s completely distracted, humming a song Innes vaguely recognizes under his breath as they walk alongside one another.

He wonders what could possibly be on the other’s mind. Wonders what could be making the gears in his head twist and turn for once. It’s an unkind thought, but Innes is still unaccustomed to viewing the other’s actions as anything except impulsive. A thoughtful Ephraim was a rare sight; difficult to reconcile with his usual carefree nature. It was worrisome, given that the only times Innes witnessed these moments was when something especially complicated was on the other’s mind. He was not interested in intruding on issues that did not concern him (which was rather rich coming from him he’d confronted the man’s _father_ for heaven’s sake), yet he couldn’t help growing concerned over Ephraim being troubled by issues he could potentially help him with.

He’s on the precipice of inquiring about it, when their eyes happen to meet.

“Something on your mind?” Ephraim asks, as if Innes hasn’t been wondering precisely that of him.

“Not at all.” He responds without skipping a beat, turning his attention to the cluster of lights he can observe in the distance. “Admiring the view, I suppose.”

As they near their destination, the decorations hung between the lampposts lining the streets become more extravagant. The faint sound of music echoes throughout the entire walkway. Beachgoers amble along the path, enjoying the scenic atmosphere and chatting with one another, the ocean breeze and scent adding to the ambiance of a beautiful summer night.

“Is today of particular importance?” Innes questions. He expected it to be lively, but everything appeared especially embellished. “There’s quite the gathering of visitors.”

“Summer festival. To celebrate the season.”

“Ah.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Ephraim guides him through an approaching crowd of people, tightening his grip on their joint hands to prevent from being separated. “Me and Eirika have been here tons of times. I guess it’s kinda tradition at this point. Can’t say we had a nice summer if we don’t stop by the shore at least once.”

“Any reason why?”

“Childhood nostalgia, I guess.” Ephraim pushes past a particularly thick throng of people, waiting until Innes is beside him before continuing to walk. “I actually worked here for a few summers.”

“You did?”

“Back when I was still a rookie and had no idea what I was doing. Every year, the guy who mentored me closes up shop back home and comes here during the summer. I came along with him while I was still learning. He thought it was really funny to watch me suffer through the heat while I worked and saw everyone have fun on the beach.”

“An unconventional means of teaching, I take it.”

“That’s an understatement. I did learn a lot from it, though. You hungry?”

Caught off guard by the non-sequitur, Innes nods slowly. The answer appears to please Ephraim. They take a turn in between two restaurants advertising standard beach fare, ducking into a dark alley, the music playing throughout the main street becoming faint.

“Why is it that the majority of places you take me are located in suspicious backstreets?” He knew Ephraim enjoyed scouting out unknown eateries, but did they always have to be located in seedy areas? While Innes had yet to be disappointed, it wouldn’t hurt to be taken somewhere he wasn’t at risk of being mugged at.

“When it comes to good food, you’ve got to look in unexpected places. Don’t tell me you’re scared?”

“Absolutely not. I’m only questioning what you do to find these places.”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a mystery would it?”

They finally stop at a discreet and inconspicuous store front. Innes incorrectly assumes it’s closed, proven wrong when Ephraim pushes the door open, the tinkling of a wind chime alerting the inside to their presence. 

The interior is as unassuming as the outside. Small, with very little space. The only seating available are the bar stools lining the counter. Very few pieces of ocean themed decor adorn the establishment, the windows tinted a dark hue, amplifying the warm and dusky lighting.

“Yo!” Ephraim calls out, banging a fist on the counter. He waves off the reproachful look Innes directs at him. “I’ve got a reservation here! What kinda welcome is this?”

“ _Stop antagonizing the staff_.” Innes hisses. What was this buffoon _doing_? “ _You’re being rude._ ”

“It’s fine.” Ephraim sits down at the center, motioning for him to do the same. “I made a reservation after all!” He yells, leaning over to be better heard. “What kinda shitty service is this?”

“ _Ephraim!_ ” Innes grabs his arm in an attempt to stop his appalling behavior. He startles slightly when the door slowly opens, expecting a verbal tirade directed at them.

“How many times do I have to tell you to clean up that sailor mouth of yours?” An older gentleman eyes Ephraim with disdain, stepping out to greet them. “Stop being disrespectful.”

“When it stops being funny, I might consider it.”

“I didn’t raise you to be this way.”

“You didn’t raise me at all.”

“Thank the fates for that.”

“Who’s the one being rude here?” Ephraim barks out a laugh, tapping Innes’s shoulder, as if he wasn’t already paying attention to the entire exchange. “Innes, this is the old man who taught me everything I know. Old man, this is Innes.”

“It’s actually Duessel.” The man sighs, likely used to Ephraim’s ridiculous behavior. “A pleasure to meet you, son.”

“Likewise.” Innes responds politely. “My apologies for his behavior. You likely know this, but his father informed me he was raised by a pack of wolves and only wandered into his home by chance.”

“Everything makes sense now, doesn’t it?” Duessel laughs at Ephraim’s disgruntled grumbling. “In any case, welcome to my shabby little shack. It’s not much, but I like to keep things that way.”

“Is there a reason for the location?” Innes asks what’s been on his mind the entire time. Surely, visibility was vital in attracting customers. A restaurant hidden from sight was asking for issues making a decent profit. “Wouldn’t it be better to set up shop where tourists can clearly see your business?”

“Normally, that would be the case. The problem is, the types of customers I attract are those looking for hidden dives to brag about.” Duessel explains, seemingly as confused about the strange choice as he was. “I purchased and fixed this place up as a fun project. Little did I know word of mouth would evolve into a secretive social media presence. I’m booked this entire summer.”

“Amazing.” Innes means it. The power of self-gratification and need for superiority was not to be underestimated. “Ephraim mentioned a reservation, but I am almost completely sure he barged in here with no such thing.”

“Eh, you’re half right.” Ephraim admits with a flippant shrug. “I called this morning and he was really mad about it.”

“You’re lucky today’s guests specifically requested breakfast.” Duessel says sternly. “You know better than calling in on short notice.”

“Sorry…”

“It hardly matters now.” He sighs, walking towards the door he originally came from. “The first course should be out shortly, along with your drinks.” The door shuts behind him, leaving Ephraim and Innes alone to enjoy the faint music playing through the speakers.

“Is there no menu?” Innes asks, suddenly realizing he wasn’t given anything to select a meal from. “What course will we be given if we haven’t chosen anything yet?”

“Duessel’s unconventional.” Ephraim tells him with a smile. “No menu. Everything’s fixed and according to what he feels like cooking and what he’s managed to get his hands on at the market. Don’t worry though. Everything is seafood related.”

“You’re keeping your promise.”

“No way I wouldn’t.”

“How kind of you.” Innes replies dryly. “At the very least, I finally know who encouraged your own interest in unorthodox recipes and cooking methods.”

“Yeah, Duessel’s a cool guy. Was in the military and came back wanting to cook. He’s a friend of my dad so when I finally figured I wanted to give the whole chef thing a try, he helped me out with everything. Put up with all my stupid questions and experiments. The guy’s a saint.”

“Completely deserving of your outburst when we walked in.”

“It’s a joke between us.” Ephraim explains. “He says I have filthy language, but when I was working with him, he was just as bad. Pressure makes him lose the cool exterior. I thought it was badass. Still do.”

“Did you enjoy working for him?”

“It was a lot of fun. The people who came to Duessel’s place were always interesting and fun to hang around. I even got to run everything on my own a few times whenever he was in a good mood or felt like I could handle it.” Ephraim looks down at the spotless counter, staring at his crystalline reflection. “…I don’t know. Feeling like I was my own boss was great. I know I’ve ragged a lot on my dad, but it wasn’t as if the whole time at his company was terrible. Hell, I still use some of the stuff I learned there to help Eirika out. It’s just…” His lips flatten into a line, eyes narrowing. “I got tired of running around and having people telling me what to do. I didn’t want that.”

“I will admit, I cannot imagine you taking an order without complaint.” Likely one of _Eirika’s_ many complaints about her brother’s work ethic, Innes assumed. “It does not suit you.”

“You think so?”

“I _know_ so.” Recklessly charging ahead with no concern except his own beliefs was more Ephraim’s beat. Politely nodding along to anything asked of him was _not_. “I’m surprised you have not branched off on your own yet.”

“It’s not like I haven’t thought about it.”

“Are the logistics off-putting?”

“Not really.” Ephraim rests his cheek on his hand, letting out a small sigh. “I can figure that stuff out easily enough. I’m just worried about Eirika.”

“She would hardly fall apart without you.” Continue to thrive, if anything. A person as iron-willed and confident as she was wouldn’t let a single detour distract her from achieving any goals she set out for herself. “I do not believe she would begrudge you for it, either.”

“Funnily enough, she said the same thing to me.” Ephraim laughs quietly. “Told me to get my ass out of Renais and do something for myself. Like I said, I’ve thought about it.”

“It isn’t only Eirika, I take it.”

“It's--What if—“ He stops short, biting his lip. “Never mind. It’s stupid. You’ll think I’m stupid.”

“If it’s a valid concern, I would not.”

“Getting anything to be a valid concern for you is like asking Myrrh  _not_  to call you Mr. Innes.”

“I am fine with anything she’s comfortable with.” Innes hadn’t told her _not_ to continue referring to him with a prefix, but he made an effort to remind her it was all right to drop it in favor of just his name. It had yet to work, but he wasn’t going to press if she wasn’t comfortable with it. “I doubt it’s anything I would find idiotic.”

“You say that.”

“If you would rather keep it to yourself, feel free. I will believe in you on this one rare occasion.”

“It sounded better the first time you said it.” Ephraim teases, laughing at his grimace. “It’s a little embarrassing, honestly.”

“As embarrassing as me saying something like I believe in you _?_ ” The words were heartfelt and Innes meant them, but it still made his skin crawl and his face heat up at how bold he’d been to say anything as profoundly corny as that.

“It’s just….What if—“ Ephraim sighs. “…What if it doesn’t work out? What if I put all my time and effort into it for nothing?”

“You would lose your investment.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

“I know it’s not.” Innes clicks his tongue. “What is there to say? You move on.”

“It can’t be that easy.”

“I’m not saying it is.” Innes did not own Rausten, but he had been with L’Arachel since the day she barged in and started demanding everything be remodeled. It was not a rode without its ups and downs. Witnessing L’Arachel agonize over all aspects of her business and refuse to compromise taught him to appreciate the difficulties involved in running any kind of establishment. It _was_ difficult, but that was to be expected. “I know it’s not. You always run the risk of failure, but that’s simply part of life. You learn and keep moving forward.”

“But I don’t want to fail.”

“So you choose to not even make an attempt?” Innes frowns. “If you truly do not want to start your own restaurant, then don’t. But if it’s something you are passionate about and you feel as if you are prepared to put in the time, effort and resources the work requires, why not?”

“But what if—“

“ _Ephraim_ , I repeat, I know it won’t be easy. I’m sure you’ll run into problems and grow frustrated when you do not have immediate solutions. That is simply part of the process.” Innes huffs. "Throwing in the towel before you’ve even started isn’t like you at all.”

“Maybe it is like me.” Ephraim mumbles. “Maybe you just think too highly of me.”

“I don’t think anything of you I haven’t observed myself.” Innes replies. “I think you’re more than capable of moving forward on your own. Whatever comes your way, I have confidence you can deal with it.”

“How about you?”

“What about me?”

“Haven’t you ever thought about taking off from Rausten?”

“Not really.” Innes admits. “I know that we will all eventually go our separate ways, but I do not think I would be particularly interested in owning my own business.”

“Why not? I think you could pull it off.”

“Perhaps, but it’s not what I want. I will leave that venture to a future entrepreneur like yourself.”

“Think L’Arachel will mind if I scout you out?”

“If it’s of my own volition, I doubt she would have an issue with it.” They weren't attached at the hip. Innes cared for and respected L’Arachel a great deal. He’s sure it would be saddening to part from her, but he would get over it. Even if they didn’t work together, they were still friends. It wouldn’t stop her from barging into his home and demanding a sleepover or their biweekly phone calls or her struggling to understand why he sent her text messages filled with emoticons when he knew she hated them with a fiery passion. She may be odd and incorrigible and they may argue constantly about everything, but Innes couldn’t imagine his life without her. “She isn’t _that_ domineering.”

“Not like you?”

“Oh, you haven’t seen anything.” Innes laughs. “That is why I would advise against ever considering hiring me.”

“I can handle anything you throw at me.” Ephraim challenges him. “I’ve done great so far, haven’t I?”

“Business and pleasure do not mix.” It was a miracle he and L’Arachel were able to make it as far as they did with the amount of times they both reached their breaking point with one another. Risking that with Ephraim was not a possibility. “I would rather not soil your opinion of me.”

“I see your point. It’s not like me and Eirika don’t get heated over dumb stuff.”

“Precisely. If we’re going to argue, I would rather your business not be between us.”

“You really think I can do it?”

“Yes.” Innes purses his lips. “Despite how often I question your intelligence, you have proven yourself to be well-versed in a variety of different areas. You’re confident. Tenacious. Motivated. Exactly what is needed to succeed.”

“What else?”

“Fishing for compliments?”

“Definitely.” To Innes’s embarrassing eternal elation, Ephraim scoots his seat closer. It shouldn’t make a difference given that there isn’t much space between them to begin with. And yet, when their thighs touch, Ephraim bumping their shoulders together as he lowers his voice, Innes cannot control the way his pulse races. “Keep it coming.”

“What you’re doing is ensuring I never spare you a kind word ever again.”

“What if I returned the favor?”

“Unnecessary. I am aware of my perfection.”

“You’re not the only one.” The words are murmured softly. Innes feels heat travel up the back of his neck, burning his ears and reaching his face at what he’s sure is simply Ephraim jesting as per usual, making light of his arrogant statements.

“I _don’t_ need you to tell me that.” Innes responds with more bite than necessary. “Keep it up and the praise may go to my head.”

“I wouldn’t mind if it did. I’m all for you struttin’ what you’ve got.”

“Which is?”

“I thought you didn’t need me to tell you?” Ephraim teases, laughing at his irritation. “If you’ve gotta know, it’s a whole lot of good. Not sure I can keep up.”

“You can. I will allow you the honor.”

“Doing me a favor?”

“I’m doing as I like.” Innes says. “I don’t make a habit of humoring just anyone.”

“I’m a special case, then.”

“You’re the _only_ case.” Innes responds without thinking. “The only one I’m interested in, that is.” It takes a while for his own admission to sink in, the subsiding redness of his face returning full force once he realizes what he’s just implied.

Swallowing, he casts a furtive glance in Ephraim’s direction, already machinating a million different ways to reinterpret his blatant blunder, only to realize he’s being looked at with a thoughtful expression. Rather than respond, Ephraim uses the opportunity to take his hand once again, flipping it so that the pads of his fingers are facing the ceiling, overlaying his own onto it.

Innes doesn’t know if he notices because he’s nervous or surprised or blacking out because he’s overwhelmed with an optimism he doesn’t allow himself to indulge in very often, but Ephraim’s hands are smaller than his.

Not stubby by any means. Shorter, maybe thicker. His own are long and thin, a bit spindly, the paleness of his skin contrasting with the sun-kissed quality of Ephraim’s. Opposites down to their finger tips. How fitting.

How many other ways do they diverge in, Innes wonders. Do they ever converge? He’s sure they must in some areas. He doubts they could appreciate each other’s company all too much if they didn’t have points of common interests. Points where they can put aside their bickering and simply agree. Surely, there is more they haven’t discussed. More for him to uncover about Ephraim. Much, much more.

How long would it take? How long until Innes could say he fully understood and appreciated the man he allowed himself to become ridiculously enamored with?

Perhaps a lifetime. Maybe a few. Maybe more than that.

The likely answer is never. To truly know someone required more time than anyone could possibly have available. It likely brought its fair share of issues along with it. The good and the bad. Failures and successes. Disagreements and quarrels and misunderstandings. A difficult challenge.

A worthwhile one.

One likely requiring their continued interaction across extended intervals of time, preferably non-platonic in nature.

“Innes?” Ephraim says his name, concerned by his sudden silence. “What’s wrong?”

“ _I'm fine_.” He rasps out, his throat constricting painfully, fingers trembling. An inconvenient reaction and not one he’s proud of. There is nothing to be anxious about. Nothing to fear. Innes believed controlling his emotions was typically easier than this, but he was obviously mistaken. At the very least, Ephraim takes notice of his demeanor, pressing down on their hands and interlocking their fingers, gripping firmly. It’s comforting. Grounding. Of course Ephraim would know what to do in order to calm him. That’s why they were here together, wasn’t it? “Give me—Give me a moment, please.”

“Are you okay?” Ephraim asks, worried. “You’re not going to pass out or anything are you?”

“ _I’m not ill_.” Innes responds hastily, lest he be rushed off to the hospital for getting excited about _holding Ephraim’s hand of all things_. Deciding he would rather play it off as nothing for the moment while he collects his thoughts, he gives what is an honest remark on his part. “I’m trying to get over how attractive you are.”

 _That_ does the job in completely bewildering Ephraim, his jaw dropping at the boldness of the compliment. While he composes himself, it gives Innes time to take a deep breath and relax.

By the time Duessel returns, Innes’s hands are back in his lap. The warmth of Ephraim’s touch remains constant despite this, their proximity a clear reminder of what Innes wouldn’t mind on a more regular basis.

 

* * *

 

Ephraim thinks everything is going pretty great.

Things at Duessel’s went well. They both enjoyed the entire five course meal, including dessert at the end. Innes wasn’t particularly keen on having it, but a little convincing was all it took for him to indulge in the fresh sorbet, complimenting a modest Duessel on the natural fruity flavors.

Good food, good conversation, and good company. It couldn’t get better than that. Ephraim would normally pat himself on the back for a job well done, seeing as Innes was laughing freely at his dumb jokes and allowing himself to relax for once.

The problem was, he still had an important trial ahead of him.

Declaring his love for Innes and hoping for a positive response. It was turning out to be more difficult than he expected.

Ephraim had experience with pursuing and being pursued, but it wasn’t like he was an expert. That’s the reason he asked around for advice in the first place, by which he means putting himself through the torture of reading about _eleven_ trashy romance novels recommended to him by Lyon before he bit the bullet and went to his sister, her response being to _shut the fuck up_ and _tell him you whiny little bitch._

He hadn’t learned much that could help him, but Eirika’s blunt response made it clear he really should have been honest from the beginning.

Then again, it’s not like he’s been subtle or secretive. He thought he was laying it on pretty thick the past few weeks. How on Earth Innes could be completely blind to Ephraim’s burning passion for him, the flames of his love crackling and sizzling to the core of his being, searing his soul with the scorching heat of a thousand suns—

 _Damn romance novels_. That was the last time he let Lyon talk him into reading any.

Anyway.

Ephraim had been going out of his way to be as obvious as possible on _purpose_. Never had he met anyone who could be this dense, oblivious, and completely unaware of Ephraim doing everything he could to get the message across. What else did he need to do? Offer him a ring to eternally bind their lives together? He had a funny feeling Innes would be completely off base with that, too. Would probably think Ephraim was pranking him and kick him in the balls for it.

He _really_ should have listened to Eirika instead of thinking Innes would appreciate understated messages. The best approach has always been telling him in the clearest way possible. Which _was_ his initial plan until he got caught up in  _dumbass romance novels he was going to have a conversation with Lyon about them what the actual fu—_

“Can you not put so much space between us? We’re going to get separated.”

“What?” Ephraim snaps out of his thoughts, noticing the amount of distance between he and Innes. Quickly, he closes the gap, nearly bumping into someone in the process. “Sorry about that. Was thinking.”

“What a notion.” It really must be something, Ephraim thinks, to allow himself to be called out as a dumb fuck and actually enjoy it. Innes really was the man of his dreams. “I think I see smoke.”

“Sure it’s not coming from you? Because you’re hot as hell.” It’s a purposefully corny and downright horrible come-on. Ephraim means it as a joke, used to the way Innes laughs them off or rolls his eyes at their terribleness. It’s practically second nature at this point. This time Innes does none of that, instantly turning a vivid scarlet, sputtering nonsense in attempt to come up with a decent reply.

“ _Moron_.” He mumbles, observing Ephraim from the corner of his eye. “I’m beginning to believe you actually enjoy sounding like a tool.”

“I just like how much you hate them. Can’t resist annoying you.”

“Perhaps I should make an effort to do the same.”

“Annoy me?”

“No.” Innes grabs hold of his arm, clinging to it with a flirtatious giddiness not unlike a love-struck teenager. His eyelashes flutter shyly as he presents Ephraim with the most enticingly coquettish look to date. “Why would I do that, when there are other ways to rile you up?”

Uh…

“Y-You’re, uh, you’re very right. When aren’t you? Never, that’s when. I would bet my life on anything you said if you asked because I trust you and think you’re smart and I don’t always make good decisions but if you’re around maybe I can learn and you can praise me over it I would really like that I mean it’s not like I have a kink for it but if you’re into it I can be too—” Ephraim blurts out without thinking. What can he say? Innes being straight-forward and flirty did things to him. Who could blame his brain function for suddenly dropping off when the guy could destroy him with a suggestive wink? “—Uh, but yeah. You’re right. As usual.”

“As _always_. You would do well to remember that.” Innes’s expression falls flat instantly as he detaches himself, probably happy with how he’s affected Ephraim. “Honestly, is that your usual reaction to such behavior or are you much too smitten with me?”

“I think it’s just you.” Ephraim says bluntly. He feels a little bad about how flustered his response makes Innes, but he’s only telling the truth. “Because you’re great.”

“I _know_ _that_.” Innes huffs, acting displeased. Ephraim knows better. Knows he actually really enjoys being praised. He doesn’t mind being the one to do it. “A-Anyway, didn’t you say you wanted to play one of these games?” He gestures towards the game stalls lining the boardwalk, a colorful array of prizes hanging from each of their walls.

“Don’t _you_ want to?” Ephraim is excited about it. Maybe he could win something nice for Myrrh. “It’s a classic, isn’t it?”

“A classic waste of time and money.” Is Innes’s boring and not at all cute response. Would it kill him to be a little more open-minded? “They are made to ensure you spend as much money as possible struggling to win when you could easily purchase any of those prizes online for a far cheaper price.”

“It’s about the _experience_.”

“Remorse isn’t an experience I would willingly seek.”

And here Ephraim was hoping _someone_ would want to join him. He probably should have anticipated Innes thinking these games were stupid, especially if it meant coughing up ridiculous amounts of cash throwing hoops over bottles or shooting water into tiny targets. Maybe if it involved a chance to beat him at something, he would be willing to—

Oh.

 _Duh_.

“I guess they are kinda dumb.” Ephraim begins in a light tone, doing his best not to laugh and give himself away. “I mean, now that I think about it, they always feel rigged.”

“Exactly.”

“If you’re not good at them, at least.”

Ephraim doesn’t even have to look at Innes to know he’s already won this battle.

“Are you trying to say I do not enjoy them because I am not good at them? Because slandering my skill will not bring you any closer to ever reaching my level!”

“I’m having a hard time believing that.”

“Blame your capacity for comprehension.” Innes huffs, walking ahead of him. “We’ll settle this properly. Hurry up!”

And just like that, Ephraim gets what he wants. It’s an underhanded method, but he just wants to have fun with Innes.

.

.

.

Is what he _would_ say, if everything actually went according to how he thought it would.

It might have been hasty of Ephraim to assume he could beat Innes at every single challenge they got caught up in. It wasn’t that he was over-confident in his skill or genuinely thought he was amazing and the best at _all things ever._ Innes was great at stuff he sucked at, like matching clothes, making pancakes, getting any and all electronics Ephraim owned to work again, being on time, and much, _much_ more. Even tying cherry stems in his mouth! (Which was hot as all hell but whenever he brought it up Innes would get annoyed and embarrassed so he avoided thinking too much about it which was difficult for obvious reasons.) He was amazing!

Didn’t make coming to another new discovery any less difficult.

“You weren’t even looking!” Ephraim exclaims, watching in disbelief as Innes is allowed to pick a prize from the selection. He spots all of his throwing darts, either on the floor or completely off target while Innes’s are all firmly planted dead center. “This has to be some kinda joke!”

“I’m surprised as well.” Innes replies, pointing to a stuffed ladybug plushie sporting a bow, accepting it graciously from the stand operator. “I thought your aim was a bit better than that.”

“It is! I mean, it’s _supposed_ to be.”

“As I said, underestimating my skill was a mistake.” Innes smirks, happy with any win he was able to lord over Ephraim’s head. “Thank you for paying, by the way.”

“Would have been a good time to be proud and tell me not to.”

“When you’re provoking me into going along with your whims?” Looked like Innes knew _exactly_ what he was trying to do, Ephraim guiltily realizes. “It’s the least you can do.”

“I guess. Thing is, I want a rematch.” Ephraim marches over to a neighboring stand, pulling out his wallet, much to the delight of the young woman watching over the stall. “Get your ass over here and lose against me.”

Ephraim tries. He really does. But with every game they play, Innes seems to get better and better, even his most careless of attempts snagging him victory. They even join in on games that require a few more people, Innes _absolutely steamrolling_ the competition without breaking a sweat. By the end, Ephraim has to run into a store to buy a bag so they can stuff all the prizes inside. He’s ordered to carry it of course, completely disrespected and shamed. He’s got a non-existent win streak, a nearly empty wallet, and wounded pride.

Great.

“Not to worry.” Innes says breezily, a skip to his step. “At the very least, your losses have earned your daughter many a prize. The penguin in particular. She could do to have a bit more variety in her collection of stuffed animals.”

“Shoulda asked for the dragon.” Ephraim grumbles petulantly, shifting the bag to his other hand. “You know she loves them.”

“Perhaps, but that is what you would like to gift her, no?” Innes glances at him. “I’m not cruel enough to step on your toes in such a vile way. She will like the penguin, but she will love the dragon.”

“Showing mercy?”

“Showing _decency_.” Innes frowns. “I would not feel right about it.”

And that’s really all it takes to better Ephraim’s mood after so many losses. Innes had a knack for catching him off guard with how selfless he could be about the smallest of things. Probably one of the reasons he liked him as much as he did.

Which was a lot.

“Thanks, but I think I should call it quits before I’m completely broke.” Innes was right. Going to the store would have been easier than trying to beat him at anything on the boardwalk. Besides, he still had other places to take Innes. “Getting better at being responsible, aren’t I?”

“To be honest, I am never quite sure whether you are or whether you have always been.” Innes says. “One minute I’m questioning how you’ve made it this far and the next you’re proving me completely wrong with how efficient you can be. Paradoxical in every sense of the word.”

“Am I?” Ephraim purses his lips. He just did what he wanted most of the time. There wasn’t any greater reason for it. “I don’t think so.”

“Of course you wouldn’t.” Innes laughs off his confusion, like it’s some little secret he’s keeping to himself. “If you do not plan on spending another minute here, is there anything else you would like to do?”

“Definitely. You’re not afraid of heights or anything are you?” Making sure Innes wasn’t caught off guard or uncomfortable was pretty important for what he had in mind, given that he’d _fallen off a cliff_ once. The last thing Ephraim wanted was having him relive a traumatic memory when they were supposed to be having a good time.

“Not at all.” Innes responds much to his relief. “I quite enjoy them actually.”

“Great, because the rides here are free and we are taking full advantage of that.” Ephraim grasps his hand, holding it tight as he takes the lead. “Nothing like a little adrenaline ever now and then.”

“Are you sure you won’t be screaming for me to hold you?” Innes asks airily.

“You’re the one who’s going to be begging me to hold _you_.” Ephraim replies.

Not that he would mind. Holding Innes in any capacity sounded like a swell time.

“We will see about that.” Innes remarks confidently, matching his pace. “Not to worry. I’ll consider offering comfort. You’re a special case, after all.”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the afternoon is a lovely time.

Ephraim makes good on his word and takes Innes along on each and every attraction offered at the boardwalk. They are rushed down roller coasters, spun at exhilarating speeds, launched into the air by bungee cords, and even walk through an extensive and disorienting house of mirrors. Ephraim in particular takes great joy in that one, snapping pictures of both his and Innes’s ridiculously morphed appearances while making odd faces and laughing at his own silliness.

It’s a comforting sight, to see him enjoying himself. Innes still felt guilty about being coddled by him, but knowing he was getting an equal amount of enjoyment out of their outing brought him great peace of mind.

He lets out a deep breath of air, shifting on the bench he’s seated upon, Ephraim having left to purchase a snack earlier. He stares out at the darkened ocean. Late afternoon had long since become nighttime, their day slowly but surely coming to an end. A bittersweet conclusion to a wonderful evening together, but one he would surely remember.

“I’m back.” Ephraim finally reappears, two distinct desserts in hand. “Gotcha something.”

“You didn’t need to.” Innes takes the one proffered to him. “…I wasn’t aware crêpes were a staple here.”

“There’s a lot of out of place food here. Think Duessel’s probably inspiring everyone to be creative.” Ephraim sits beside him, popping a deep fried cream cookie into his mouth. “Aye woomumbie sowpwis uf—“

“I cannot understand what you are saying.” Innes grimaces as Ephraim huffs out steam in a panic, the cookies still too hot to eat without scalding his mouth. “Don’t choke.”

“Ahm fhaun shust—“ He finishes chewing it, shuddering afterwards. “I think I have third degree burns on my tongue.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Fuck yeah. Deep fried cookies are the bomb.” He proceeds to do the same with another, fanning his mouth. “ _I wuv twem swoh much_.”

“Good for you.” Innes shakes his head in disbelief, taking a bite of his crêpe. It’s flaky and the right amount of crispy, the fresh fruit juicy, the hazelnut spread accompanying them wonderfully. Not sickeningly sweet by any means. “Thank you.”

“ _Ywoh wewcome_.”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full.” Innes sighs, reaching over to swipe a few crumbs from the corner of Ephraim’s lips in the midst of him scarfing down as many as he can. “ _Relax_. You don’t need to rush.”

“Sorry.” Ephraim swallows. “I just wanna make sure we get to the last ride on time. It’s a classic.”

“What better way to finish everything off.” Innes replies, muffling a yawn. He was nowhere near as exhausted as when he started the trip, but his excitement was wearing off and leaving him drowsy.

“Tired?”

“Slightly.”

“We can leave now if you want.”

“I’ll be fine.” Innes rubs his eyes. “If anything, you’ll be obligated to carry me back.”

“Piece of cake, string bean.”

“It only makes sense to put that monstrous strength to good use.” Innes takes another bite of his crêpe, licking away cream from his lips. Ephraim makes a strange noise, but he ignores it. The fool is probably choking on another cookie. “Should it happen, you have my apologies.”

“Don’t gotta apologize for somethin’ like that. I’m always open to lugging you around like a sack of potatoes.”

“To think my hopes rested on a princess carry.” Innes replies wryly. “My dreams, crushed in an instant.”

“What about _my_ dreams? I wanna be carried like a damn princess but here we are.” Ephraim pokes his arm, a pout settling on his lips. “You’re ruining everything for me.”

“I’m not breaking _both my arms_ because you want to put on a show.”

“I’m not _that_ heavy.”

“As you said, I am a mere string bean.”

Ephraim grumbles a few choice words under his breath, finishing off his cookies. When Innes notices him eyeing what remains of his crêpe, he sighs, handing it over without protest, Ephraim eagerly accepting and finishing it off. Better that it doesn’t go to waste, Innes thinks.

“Okay, let’s go.” Ephraim rises from the bench, pulling Innes up with him. “Hopefully there’s not a long line.”

“Where are we headed?”

“You’ll see.”

Innes finds out soon enough.

Classic was the correct term to describe their final stop. Perhaps a bit cliche and predictable, the Ferris Wheel towers above them, its lights illuminating the entire boardwalk. Innes would not say it was a favorite of his, but he could appreciate its purpose.

“I hope we get a green one.” Ephraim tells him, tapping his foot impatiently as they wait in what is unfortunately a long line. “I’m feeling real lucky today.”

“The famous last words of a gambler.”

“It ain’t a gamble if I’m sure it’ll happen.” Ephraim tells him with an air of assuredness. “What about you?”

“Pardon?”

“What color are you hoping for?"

“It makes no difference to me, but if given the choice, I am partial to blue.”

“Why?”

“Why not?” Innes quirks an eyebrow. “It’s a preference.”

“But like, why do you prefer it?”

“There doesn’t need to be a specific reason for anything, Ephraim.”

“Yeah, but _why_?”

Innes sighs. Honestly, the persistence over such an insignificant detail was ridiculous. Why did it matter if he liked one color over the other? They weren’t children fighting over which crayon was better.

“…It’s calming.” Innes finally answers after a stretch of silence. “It reminds me of…of the things that relax me.”

“Like what?”

“Like many things.” Be it the ocean, the sky. Freshly planted irises. Tana’s curls of hair or the beat up bike Tiki refused to part with. The quilt his father spent weeks making him before he left home, or the pendant that always hung from his mother’s neck, the cool metal of its chain chilling against his skin whenever she held him close, ever since he was a child.

Blue pools of water, blue crystalline lakes. Shimmering hues of turquoise and aquamarine ever changing, depending on mood, location, time of day and weather. Kind and mischievous and confident, curious and confused.

Confused?

…Ah. Innes has been staring. And without saying a word at that.

“I just like it.” He says simply, uninterested in elaborating any further. “That’s all.”

“I think I get it.” Ephraim responds, accepting his answer. “I feel the same.”

“I’m sure you don’t.” Innes mutters to himself, shaking his head when Ephraim asks for him to repeat what he said, not having heard his comment.

Their turn to board the Ferris Wheel eventually arrives. It’s not as rickety as Innes expects it to be, which is a relief. As he told Ephraim earlier, he had no issue with heights, but that did not mean the sound of rusted and worn metal creaking wasn’t unnerving.

“Got the green.” Ephraim seems pleased by the inconsequential coincidence, jolting slightly when the attraction begins to move. He’s seated opposite Innes, his legs stretched out in front of him. Normally Innes would chastise him for being obnoxious, but it’s not as if anyone could see his horrid posture. “Sorry we’re missing out on blue.”

“I will get over it.” Innes holds back another yawn. All the walking around was finally taking its toll on him. Part of him hoped the rotation would end quickly. Heading back for a quick shower and a full night’s rest sounded heavenly at the moment. “I’m surprised you even bothered with this. Do you think you can sit still the entire time?”

“Yes, Nessy, I can behave for a few minutes.” Ephraim rolls his eyes. “Sure you’re not scared? You can sit on my lap if you want.”

“I’m quite fine over here.” Innes responds idly, turning his attention to the inky sky. There wasn’t much of a view of the ocean considering the time of day, but the twinkling lights far below were enough of a sight. “I suppose I should thank you.”

“For what?”

“For a nice evening. I’ll return the favor and repay you for everything.”

“No need.”

“Oh?”

“I did this because I wanted to.” Ephraim shrugs. “It’s nothing you need to pay me back for. I like spending time with you.”

“I…I can also…reciprocate that sentiment.”

“You could not sound more awkward if you tried.”

“Shut up.”

“What? It’s cute. I like that about you. I—“ Ephraim stops short, biting his lip. “I like you a lot. I like…hanging out with you and giving you a hand whenever you need it, too.”

“While I’m appreciative, there is no need for you to do so in the first place.” Innes responds. “I can handle myself.”

“I know that. It just makes me feel good whenever I can do anything to help ya out.”

“Why?” Innes tilts his head to the side. Frankly, he didn’t understand a majority of the things Ephraim did for him. There was being courteous, and there was being excessively selfless. What reason did the other man have for being this kind to Innes? “I am hardly worth the effort.”

“Of course you are.” Ephraim immediately insists. “Why wouldn’t you be?”

“I’m not…” Innes hesitates, unsure of what to say. “Your efforts would be better suited to someone who can appreciate them fully.”

“…Is this your way of letting me down gently?”

“Very funny, Ephraim.” _Not_. Innes would like to do the opposite, in fact. “I doubt anyone would be capable of doing such a thing.”

“You would. You just did.”

“I _did_ not and _would_ not.” Innes scoffs, wondering why Ephraim appeared agitated. “You hold no such feelings for me, meaning I would never have to ‘let you down’ in the first place.”

A heavy silence follows.

It’s concerning. Innes doesn’t think he’s said anything to warrant the palpable discomfort enveloping them. It was a light-hearted conversation, wasn’t it? A joke about the non-existent possibility of being together? He didn’t find it funny, but it only made sense to play along. He couldn’t exactly say anything to the contrary, lest he recklessly admit everything.

Confused by the shift in mood, Innes looks across the way. He’s met with an expression of complete and utter dismay and frustration.

“…You’re joking.” Ephraim utters, a laugh escaping his lips. It’s slightly hysterical. “Please, _please_ tell me you’ve been joking this entire time. That you’ve been fucking with me and you actually know _exactly_ what’s going on.”

“Joking about what?”

“…Innes, we both know I’m a dumbass.” Ephraim straightens his posture, facing him properly. “But you are reaching a whole new level of _really fucking dumb_.”

“ _Excuse you?_ ” Innes bristles, instantly taking the defense. What was that about? “You’re the idiot! Don’t speak to me that way!”

“You’re not giving me any other option! I’ve been obvious as all hell but—Holy _fuck_ I have never met someone this _dense!_ _Are you serious right now?”_

“What are you _talking about_? Maybe if you elaborated, I would have an idea of what you mean!”

“It’s as clear as day!”

“If it were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation!” Innes sneers. “Why don’t you spell it out for me? Because I’m clearly too incompetent to figure it out myself!”

“I’ve been trying to do that the entire time! For _weeks! Maybe months!_ ”

“Trying to do _what?_ ”

“ _To tell you I love you!_ ”

A few beats of pin drop silence befall them.

Ephraim’s gaze burns into his own, face flushed red, lips flattened into a straight line, fists clenched painfully tight. He looks as though he wants to say more, but does not, as if waiting for Innes to make the next move.

Which he does, albeit stupidly.

“…What?” Is his clever and well thought out response. In his defense, the way his mind has gone completely blank isn’t helping with thinking critically at the moment.

Ephraim sighs heavily.

“I _love_ you. That’s what I’ve been trying to say for Gods know how long. I probably should have told you a while ago, been honest, but I thought it’d be better to be more discreet and let you figure it out.” He laughs self-depreciatively. “Terrible idea, now that I think about it. Of course you would never say anything even if you knew.”

“You…“ Innes coughs, his brain cells finally beginning to function again, his throat constricting, hands shaking, heart beating a mile a minute. “…love me?”

“Yes.”

“As in… _love_ me?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Innes frowns. “Why?”

“Why not? There doesn’t need to be a specific reason for anything, Innes.” Ephraim throws his own words back in his face with a smile. “I mean, if I’ve got to be specific, it’s _everything_. You’re cool. And, uh, you’re fun to hang around and don’t take any shit. You give as good as you get and keep me on my toes. You act like you couldn’t care less but it’s actually the opposite, ‘cause you care too much about everyone and everything. You never blame anyone for your mistakes and always look for ways to improve yourself. And me. Well, I mean, it’s not like I need you to be better or—Not that—“ Ephraim groans, running a hand through his hair. “Look, it’s like this. I’m not better because I _need_ you to be better. I’m better because you inspire and encourage me to better myself. You following? Because I know I’m probably not making any sense and you might want to deck me in the face for talking so much but this is just how I feel y’know? For a while now. You probably caught my eye since the beginning but now it’s different. It’s much _much_ more and I just—I _really_ _love you_.” He leans forward in his seat, taking Innes’s hands his, squeezing them gently. “…Man, you are really red.”

“ _Thank you for pointing out the obvious._ ” Innes scowls, embarrassed and sure his entire body was overheating at the moment. Dumb, idiotic Ephraim. Beating him to the punch every.  _Single_. _Time_. _Innes_ was the one who was supposed to tell him how he felt! Tell him how utterly incorrigible and strange and kind and amazing and wonderful he was! That despite how little Innes did to outwardly show how much he appreciated him, he _did. So much._ More than he would probably ever understand or know. “Stupid, Ephraim. You’re so annoying.”

“I know.”

“Sometimes I really hate you.”

“I know.”

“A-And it makes me so angry that I can’t help but think about you, even if we’re in the middle of an argument, or when I want to go to sleep or when you say something so stupid I want to punch _myself_ in the face.”

“I do that a lot.”

“Why do you have to exist?” Innes complains, frustrated because he was speaking but what he was saying wasn’t what he actually _wanted_ to say. Admitting his feelings should be full of affection not resentment, right? Why couldn’t he just say nice things like Ephraim had and wow him with eloquence and— “You frustrate me all the time and never make sense and sometimes I wish we’d never met because I wouldn’t be feeling this way if we hadn’t.”

“And what way is that?” Ephraim's voice is barely above a whisper as he slowly moves to sit next to him. Innes turns his head to face him, close enough to see every shade of blue in those infuriatingly beautiful eyes. “Mind telling me?”

“I was not planning on it.”

“You know that’s never mattered when I’m around.”

“I know. I hate you for it.” Innes mumbles, sighing when Ephraim rests their foreheads together. “I hate you for a lot of reasons. You’re so annoying, Ephraim.”

“Yeah, you’ve already told me.”

“Really annoying.”

“Sure am.”

“Incessantly annoying.”

“Not gonna deny it.”

Innes slips his hands from the other’s tight grip, resting them instead on Ephraim’s face. He leans into the touch, his confident and pleased smile assuring Innes this was inevitable. What chance was there against this stubborn, hard-headed, gorgeous, generous man? _None_.

And Innes was fine with that.

“I concede defeat this time.” Innes murmurs, allowing his expression to soften, lips upturning. “Just this once.”

“It’s one-o.” Ephraim’s says. “How do you plan on changing that?”

“I have a few ideas.” Before he can be questioned, Innes does what he’s been meaning to do for a while, and presses their lips together. 

Ephraim doesn’t immediately respond, and for a moment, Innes panics, believing he’s made a terrible mistake. Fortunately, it is a short-lived concern, as when the initial surprise wears off, Ephraim enthusiastically reciprocates, one hand settling on Innes’s waist while the other cups his cheek.

His lips are slightly chapped, their warmth more than making up for it, the gentleness unexpected but pleasant. Innes has a feeling the other is simply avoiding appearing too rough, too greedy or hasty for his sake, because Ephraim was never one to do things by halves. Innes figures they'll work up to it, because he's already contemplating what is to come, embarrassed by his own excitement at the knowledge that this will be something he can initiate without worry from now on. There will be no need to hesitate or carefully choose his words, because Ephraim already _knows how he feels_.

_Right?_

Innes pulls away, smiling as Ephraim follows his lips, now pursed into a pout.

"Ephraim."

"Yeah?" He replies breathlessly, dazed and content and eager to continue.

"I...admittedly find myself enamored with you as well." Innes quickly rushes out, if only for the sake of clarification. It wouldn't do to leave anything ambiguous. Much to his amusement, Ephraim's reaction is of pure delight, his eyes lighting up, the happiest grin nearly splitting his face in two as he embraces Innes, burying his face into the crook of his neck.

"Me too." His voice is muffled but understandable. It's a redundant reply, but Innes takes great pleasure in it, running a hand through Ephraim's hair. He really should have said something earlier. He was beginning to regret being afraid over what was absolutely nothing to be afraid of. "...Hey, Innes?"

"Yes?"

"Did we stop moving?"

"Did we?" Innes frowns, realizing that Ephraim was correct. They _weren't_ moving, their car still hovering a fair distance off the ground. Realistically, they should have made it back down by now. "We've been up here for quite a while now, actually."

Ephraim detaches himself from Innes, albeit reluctantly, peering down at the ground.

"...Ah, shit."

"What is it?"

"ATTENTION RIDERS!" A police officer with a megaphone announces from the ground, addressing all of the passengers, surrounded by a crowd of on lookers. "THERE HAS BEEN AN ISSUE WITH THE ATTRACTION. PLEASE REMAIN CALM. HELP IS ON THE WAY. YOU'LL BE ON THE NICE, STABLE GROUND AND NOT SUSPENDED OVER FIFTY FEET IN THE AIR IN NO TIME. CHEERS!"

"Well damn." Ephraim turns to him. "Guess we're stuck here. Should probably call in and tell the others we'll be back really late."

"That would be wise."

"Wanna make out afterwards?"

Innes gives him the flattest look imaginable.

" _Ephraim_."

"What? It's not like we're going anywhere. 'Sides." He smiles mischievously, pulling Innes close. "I think I deserve it. Don't you feel bad for me? Waiting all this time for you to say something?"

"Not at all." Innes felt nothing of the sort, for he had suffered as much and refused to complain about it. "You could have easily sped this along as well."

"Guess so..."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"So is that a yes or...?"

Innes sighs, relenting. It's not like they had anything better to do.

And he maybe, also, _perhaps_ was in the mood for a bit more.

" _Make that call and get over here._ "

"Hell yeah!"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cheers to the happy couple!  
> Next time is an epilogue of sorts and we're all done!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading!


	21. Table for Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As if willed by the universe, everything begins and ends at Rausten.

 

“Tell me Innes, if a tree falls in a forest, and no one is around to hear it, did it actually happen?”

“Yes.” Innes replies, setting another chair onto a dining table. It’s closing time, meaning cleaning, cleaning and _more_ cleaning. He doesn’t mind the routine. Enjoys cleanliness and playing a part in the process of ensuring everything is spick and span, even if it can be tedious at times. Today especially, since it’s taking extra effort to get back into the groove of work after his time off. “Events happen regardless of whether you are there to witness them. Also, I think you are misremembering the actual question.”

L’Arachel ignores him, sweeping the floor around his general vicinity. “I often ponder these questions, making use of my background in quantum physics and philosophy in a futile attempt to understand the very nature of the universe and what exactly our place in it is.”

“Any answers?”

“Certainly.” She huffs, as if Innes is foolish for asking. Perhaps he is. L’Arachel’s conclusions are often more trouble than they are worth. “I have determined asking why is inherently disrespectful. We must _do_ , and work towards what we desire, rather than lament our lack of understanding regarding the purpose of our existence.”

“I KNOW WHAT I WANNA DO.” Joshua screams from a few tables over, dancing along to the incredibly loud music bursting through his headphones. How he even heard their conversation was a mystery. “GET DOWN AND TEAR THIS FLOOR UP. WHO’S WITH ME? I KNOW YOU ARE NESS.”

“Absolutely not.”

“DON’T BE SHY. COME OVER HERE AND FEEL THE BEAT WITH ME.”

“I don’t want to feel anything with you.”

“DON’T HATE. _APPRECIATE_. WHAT? AM I TOO MUCH FOR YOU TO HANDLE?”

“You’re too much for any of us to handle.” Gerik walks by, plucking out one of Joshua’s earbuds. “Stop screaming, my guy. Inside voices this time of night.”

“Sorry man.” Joshua shrugs. “Nobody can stop the funk flowing through my veins. I’m going platinum one day. Don’t worry. I’ll mention all of you when I win at the WHAMMY awards.”

“That’s the spirit, beloved Joshua!” L’Arachel exclaims. “See, Innes? He exemplifies my findings.”

“He exemplifies _stupidity_.”

“Be nice.” Tethys chides, ruffling Innes’s hair as she returns from the outside with the special’s board. “Let him be who he is. Even if that involves singing and dancing on the premises.”

“You’re the only one that understands me, Tethys.” Joshua pretends to wipe tears from his eyes. “You’re the real MVP.”

"Hey, us artsy folk have to stick together."

"For real, dude."

“You know she’s only saying that because she feels bad for you.” Marisa deadpans from behind him. “ _And_ your shit taste in music.”

"That's really mean and hurtful of you to say." Joshua responds, not looking the slightest bit offended. "What's up with you?"

"What's got you so grumpy, sweetheart?" Tethys asks gently.

"Speak your mind." Gerik encourages. "Josh steal one of your granola bars again?"

Marisa avoids eye contact, glancing around nervously.

"No, it's...It's nothing." She mumbles, touching her index fingers together. Joshua observes her silently, eyes narrowed.

In a split second, he's snapping his fingers.

"I know!" He grins, grabbing her hands. “You wanna dance! With me! That's what it is!"

She stares at him, expression lighting up.

“…How’dya figure it out?”

“How wouldn't I? Soul siblings for life.”

“Heck yeah.” They fist bump, Joshua pulling her forward. Marisa is clumsy, as she tends to be, but it’s all in good fun anyway. Their movements don’t match the song whatsoever, but even Innes finds himself amused by their tenacity, Gerik and Tethys clapping along to the strange display.

“How infuriating. My moves are not nearly as slick as theirs.” L’Arachel grumbles from beside him. He wouldn’t say the same, considering their friends were both stumbling around gracelessly. Ah well. Let her believe what she wanted. “Remind me to schedule a dance class for us both.”

“Why must this include me?”

“What kind of question is that?” She pouts. “Are you implying you wouldn’t be interested in accompanying me?”

“I would appreciate it if you asked before making plans.”

“But that’s a _pain_. _You’re_ a pain to convince into anything.”

“Only because your requests are often short-notice. You hardly give me time to prepare at all.”

“Because spontaneity is the essence of life, dear Innes! If you do not take initiative, it is my duty to induce such actions from you.”

“By forcibly dragging me along wherever you happen to feel like going?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough.”

Eventually, they actually get back to the task at hand and finish tidying everything up. Not without a few dance breaks in between, but what else can be expected from a group such as theirs?

L’Arachel gives her usual end of the day speech and they are all dismissed. Tomorrow they’ll return and get back to cooking for their lives. For now, rest calls.

“Would you like a lift?” L’Arachel asks Innes as the others file out. "I wouldn't mind giving you one."

“I’ll be fine.”

“Will you?”

“Yes. I—“

“WELL IF IT ISN’T _EPHRAIM_.” Joshua practically screeches from outside, no doubt on purpose, because if there was anything that would never change it was his penchant for putting on a show for the sake of getting on Innes’s nerves. “HOW ARE YOU, MAN? YOU GONNA COME OVER HERE TO PICK UP OUR PRINCE OR WHAT?”

“HEY RED HEAD! WHY’RE YOU SCREAMING AT OUR BOY? DON’T SCREAM AT OUR BOY.”

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU, BLONDIE? I CAN SCREAM AT WHOEVER I WANT.”

Innes and L’Arachel look at each other before heading towards the front. They are met with Joshua making vulgar hand gestures at the group of people across the street. Forde, Innes realizes, is returning the sentiment, an arm slung around a none too pleased Ephraim’s shoulder. 

“I AIN’T ALLOWING IT." Forde yells back. "YOU WANNA GO? I’LL KNOCK THAT DUMBASS HAT FROM YOUR HEAD!”

“YOU’RE FUCKIN’ _DEAD,_ PUNK." Joshua jumps around, rolling his shoulders, clenching and unclenching his fists. "DON’T HOLD ME BACK GERIK. I SAID DON’T HOLD ME BACK.”

“I’m not?” Gerik responds, confused and standing too far away to possibly be doing anything of the sort. “And what did I say about yelling this late?”

“WHAT?” Joshua continues his tirade, creating his own silly narrative. “DUDE, _GERIK_ , I CAN’T BUST OUT THE MARTIAL ARTS HERE...MY SAMURAI SWORD? YOU WANNA ME TO WHIP OUT MY SAMURAI SWORD? THAT TOAD DOESN’T DESERVE TO EVEN LOOK AT IT!”

“ _BITCH_. I HAVE FUCKING EYES. NOBODY IS TALKING TO YOU.”

“AND YOU WON’T BE TALKING TO ANYONE ONCE I GET OVER THERE AND BUST YOUR JAW OUT OF YOUR EXOSKELETON.”

“TRY IT. I’M GONNA KICK YOUR ASS SO BAD YOUR PARALLEL UNIVERSE COUNTERPART IS GOING TO FEEL IT.”

“COME AT ME, THEN.”

“YOU COME OVER HERE.”

“NAH, YOU.”

“YOU.”

“YOU—“

“GO THE FUCK HOME.” Eirika bursts out of Renais, seething. “STOP TALKING SHIT AND GO THE FUCK TO SLEEP. L’ARACHEL.”

“Yes?” Rausten’s owner replies, chipper.

“HAVE A NICE NIGHT.”

“You too!” L'Arachel turns back to them. “Relax, dearest Joshua. If we are to fight, it is to be through our cooking skills. Not petty insults.”

“Sorry, Boss.” Joshua takes a deep breath, adjusting his favorite cap. “Got a little heated there.” He faces Renais once more. “THE HELL IS YOUR NAME, BLONDIE?”

“FORDE.”

“I’M JOSHUA. LET’S GO OUT FOR DRINKS ONE OF THESE DAYS.”

“SOUNDS COOL. HAVE A GOOD ONE.”

“YOU TOO.”

And just like that, everyone disperses. Innes stands there, unmoving as he's bid farewell. A hug from Joshua, a head pat from Gerik, a kiss on the cheek from Tethys, and a bump on the arm from Marisa. Even Renais’ crew salutes him. He waves back weakly.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to take you home?” L’Arachel asks again after a beat of silence. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll be fine. I have unwittingly subscribed myself to a driving service. Unfortunately, there is no option for cancellation.”

“How callous. Such a warm lover you are.”

Innes shudders.

“That word makes me uncomfortable.”

“Which one? Lover?”

“ _Warm_.”

L’Arachel laughs.

“I pity Ephraim. He has his work cut out for him.”

“That is the price he pays for the privilege of my presence.”

“Naturally, _Elsa_. See you tomorrow.” She winks before walking off, leaving him by himself.

Not for long. _Never_ for long.

Innes heads across the plaza, deciding to meet Ephraim on the other side for once. It was more efficient, anyway.

“You ever wonder why everyone is so damn weird?" Ephraim asks upon his arrival, automatically taking his hand as they begin to walk towards the car. "Like, did we really just watch two dudes almost rip each other's throats out before inviting each other out for drinks? What's up with that?"

"The nature of human interaction. Unpredictable. Capricious."

"Mind speaking my language?"

"People are strange, Ephraim."

"Got that right. Wouldn't have it any other way."

"Yes. Although I could do without the screaming."

"Figured you'd say that." Ephraim bumps their shoulders together. "Me too. Idiot nearly ruptured one of my ear drums."

"Your defense force is mighty."

"S'that what they're calling themselves?"

"Apparently. I received a few messages." Not threatening, but Kyle had seemed rather protective in it. Forde was fine with stopping at sending hundreds of kissy faces his way. "Did you tell them anything?"

"Of course not." Ephraim frowns. "It's none of their business. Can't believe I've even gotta tell 'em to stay out of it."

"They're concerned." While Innes appreciated his privacy as much as Ephraim, he couldn't help but find their dedication to his happiness endearing. "It's fine."

"It ain't. I'm kicking their asses if they keep on bothering you."

"I wouldn't call it that." It was more like using Ephraim as a means to advertise their services. The message directly after the demand to keep Ephraim happy was Kyle insisting he come in for a tattoo while Forde offered to sketch the actual design at a discounted price. Their astuteness was admirable to say the least. "But I will agree, their worries are unfounded."

"Yeah?" They arrive at the car, Ephraim unlocking it with the click of a button. "How's that?"

"I plan on cherishing you." Innes answers bluntly, surprising Ephraim enough to fumble and drop his keys. He curses under his breath, picking them back up. "For as long as you'll have me."

"I'm thinking a very long time."

"The future is unpredictable."

"Don't have to be clairvoyant to tell you I'm not letting go."

"Ah. Nothing makes me happier than hearing you make use of big boy words."

"It's all for you, babe. I know you like the platitudinous characteristics of my smart talk."

"Heavenly."

"Whoa. Relax there. Don't get all hot and bothered out here." Ephraim pretends to fan himself. "We've got plenty of time for that elsewhere."

"My apologies." Innes remarks wryly. "I can hardly contain myself in your presence."

"Funny. Me neither."

"If that's the case, I suppose you were correct about us making a great pair."

"I was, wasn't I?" Ephraim takes a step forward, Innes allowing himself to be trapped against the car door, his hands resting on Ephraim's shoulders. "What do you know? I can be right every once in a while."

"Don't get too ahead of yourself." Innes purrs, tilting his head slightly when his fringe is brushed aside. "It's a one-off coincidence."

"Never gonna let me win one thing without a fight, are you?"

"What do you think?" Innes laughs softly, prodding Ephraim's bottom lip with his thumb. "I cannot resist a prolonged struggle."

"Looking forward to it." Ephraim sighs, unable to contain a smile. "Give it all you've got."

Instead of answering, Innes kisses him. He's found it's the most effective way to silence Ephraim, while offering satisfaction on both sides. A win-win situation.

When they part, Ephraim rests his head on Innes's shoulder, peels of joyful laughter muffled into the material of his clothing. He's done that often as of late. It's pleasant. Innes hopes he keeps doing it. Hopes he can continue being a source of happiness for him. Ephraim deserves it.

"I'm sleepy." Ephraim mumbles. "Let's go home."

"Do you think you can make both trips?" Innes asks, concerned. Heaven forbid Ephraim get himself into an accident.

"No." His sigh is emphasized with the melodramatic tone of his words. "Guess that means you'll have to stay over. Pretty unexpected, huh?"

"I'd rather walk."

"Why?"

"Frelia needs me."

"She can survive a night on her own."

"I need to care for her, Ephraim."

"You need to care for me, too. S'not fair." He pouts. It's convincing, but not enough to sway him. Innes would begrudgingly (gladly) indulge him were it any other day or occasion, but he needed to return to feed and nurture his precious feline. "This is really threatening our relationship."

"Nice try, but no."

"Hmph. Whatever."

"Another day." To seal the deal, Innes kisses him again, pulling away the moment Ephraim's hands land on his waist and begin to trail lower. It wouldn't do to get distracted by his lasciviousness. They really needed to go home and sleep. "Not today."

"Fine." Ephraim's disappointment is obvious. “Make it up to me another day?”

"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise.” Innes pats Ephraim’s cheek, smiling at how easy it is to placate him. He really was too adorable for his own good. “Now hurry up. You need to pick Myrrh up, don’t you?”

“Yes, and she’d be really happy to see you so she can finally show off her new bunny slippers. That’s an honor, Nessy. How’re you gonna turn down that kinda offer?”

“Stop guilt tripping me.”

“I’m not. All I’m saying is, basically, I think staying over instead of going back home to your demon spawn is the better idea. That’s just—Innes, that’s _fact_.”

“That’s _subjective opinion_.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Figure it out and I may consider your argument.” Innes slips out of Ephraim’s grasp, heading over to the passenger seat. “Get us going, driver. I have a beautiful lady waiting at home for me.”

“She know you’re seeing the dude she hates most?”

“I haven’t had the opportunity to discuss it with her.” Innes buckles his seatbelt, Ephraim doing the same. “I’m sure it’ll come up eventually.”

“Can’t wait for her to claw my eyes out.”

“She wouldn’t. Frelia respects the decisions I make.”

“Was this a good one?”

“Undoubtably.” Innes gifts his idiot with a sly wink. “I’m quite happy right now.”

Ephraim gives him a blank stare. Abruptly, but no less casual, he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“What are you doing?”

“Kissin’ you." Ephraim responds gruffly, climbing over the center console onto his lap. "S’what you deserve for sayin’ the cutest shit.”

Innes can't help it. He laughs into the furious kisses bestowed upon him. Gives as much as he takes. It's a battle of wills. It always has been. It always will be. 

He'll take great joy in this one, continuously refusing to back down to the likes of the moron he'd allowed himself to be swept up and away by.

"You're in a good mood." Ephraim murmurs when they break apart to breathe. "Something happen?"

Innes considers this for a moment.

"Perhaps."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! We've come a long way these past eight or nine months. Even I can't believe it!
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone who followed this story until the very end! Whether you left a comment, a kudo, or simply came along for the ride, I appreciate all of your kindness and support! It's a real honor to say I finally wrote a multi-chapter fic for my two favorite boys from Fire Emblem, and from my favorite game in the series to boot! I'm biased when I say this, but I truly do believe Innes and Ephraim make a great pair. Innes's one-sided insistence on a rivalry and Ephraim indulging him because he likes a good fight will never not make me happy. Any content I can provide for these goofs is well-worth the effort. 
> 
> While it's a bit sad to part from this fic, it's also a very wonderful feeling. Whether it was Innes and L'Arachel's lovable and charming friendship, Eirika's 'don't speak to me until I've had at least five cups of coffee' attitude or, my personal favorite, Naga being the best mom ever, I enjoyed typing up every single word!
> 
> As for any future works, they will likely be Ephraim/Innes (lmao as if that wasn't obvious lol). But who knows? Three Houses is coming out soon. We all know that means new pairings to explore! (or an AU in Three Houses world with Sacred Stones characters instead lol no I can't maybe idk we'll see). 
> 
> So for the last time in Order Up, thank you all for reading! 
> 
> ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡)۶


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